


The Other Spy

by potionspartner



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potionspartner/pseuds/potionspartner
Summary: Severus Snape knows that the Order has another spy among the Death Eater’s ranks, but Dumbledore refuses to discuss it leaving Severus, once again lacking important information. Tired of the old man’s constant manipulation, Severus conducts his own investigation. What he discovers is a web of truth and lies, where reality and illusion are so intertwined that he cannot tell right from wrong, even in himself.





	1. The Card Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then his eyes fell upon a red-head. For a moment, she reminded him of Lily, but her hair was a lighter red almost strawberry blonde. Her eyes were green but more oval in shape then his old friend. She made eye contact with him for a moment, a smile played upon her lips, an eyebrow arched in challenge and then she purposely turned away from him and back to the game.

Everything you recognize belongs to J K Rowling.

Severus Snape was tired. He was tired of standing on a precipice trying to keep both his masters satisfied. He was tired of the charades he played when engaging both sides. He was just tired of living this double life that had been thrust on him. Why did he keep doing this? Why did he continue this existence? For Lily, he reminded himself, to protect her son, to continue her life even when she had long ago left this world. 

While it was a noble reason, he knew it has been pushed slightly aside for another reason--a more narcissistic one. He was unique. He, Severus Snape, the former victim of Hogwarts bullies, the ridiculed among the Dark Lord’s inner circle, the socially ostracized by his colleagues, could do something no one else could do. Despite his precarious position in both camps, he was able to move between them and that made his job critical: a double agent. It had made him feel special. It made him feel powerful. It had given him unparalleled importance--until now.

Albus, he had surmised, had somehow inserted another spy into the ranks of Death Eaters. Although he had never admitted it to Severus and, probably, never would, Severus was almost sure of it. Two weeks ago, he reported to the old man some specifics of the Dark Lord’s plans to break into Azkaban. The wizard nodded like he appreciated the information and then asked him additional questions. Because of the pensive look in those ice blue eyes and the questions he had asked, the Potion Master concluded that Albus had already obtained that information from somewhere and already knew even more than Snape had reported to him.

Then just three days ago, he risked his position in the Dark Lord’s inner circle and his very life pretending to retreat to the loo during a Death Eater meeting. He apparated straight over to Headquarters to warn them about a planned abduction that very night. Black was there, arrogant as always. He toasted Severus for his “excellent attempts at chivalry” but Kingsley and Lupin had left just fifteen minutes prior to remove the targeted witch from harm’s way. Severus wanted to hex that smug look off Black’s face. Later, Albus wouldn’t divulge anything about the mission to him or his information source.

Yes, Albus definitely had a second spy. The question was who. So, here it was well past midnight. He had a double class of idiotic second years first thing in the morning yet he was standing at the bar of the Wicked Wand pretending to nurse a firewhiskey and examining the crowd. The Wicked Wand was a hole in the wall in the furthest depths of Knockturn Alley. After most meetings, the Death Eaters turned up here. Sometimes to continue the Dark Lord’s celebrations when a plan had gone well and sometimes to drink away the pain of the Cruciatus Curse when it had not. 

Tonight was a celebration night not that any particular project had come to fruition but rather that the Dark Lord had been too busy scheming and plotting with horrific glee new evil plots to torture his any of followers. Severus shook his head in disgust. What a thing to celebrate: that no one felt the wrath of his master’s anger. So, the alcohol was free flowing from the tap, the cards were spread out on the table and the women draped in their laps.

Slowly, Severus eyes scanned the crowd gambling. Walden Macnair, still working for the Ministry, must have to get up as early as the potioneer tomorrow, but the bald man seemed to ignore that fact as he downed drinks almost as fast as he put his cards on the table. Nott had two comely witches, one on each arm. Somehow he managed to continue the game, while still frequently grabbing his tankard and fondling the women all at the same time. Give the man credit for masterfully multi-tasking. It’s a good thing, however, he couldn’t duel as well as he could indulge in his entertainments. 

As the spy examined each man, he considered him. Had any of them done anything to suggest their lack of allegiance to the Dark Lord? He legilimens the ones, whose eyes he could see. Most of them were poor occulumists to begin with and, as drunk as they were, their thoughts practically screamed at him. None, however, seemed to give a hint of a change of allegiance. He scanned a couple of the women too. Their intelligence was very questionable. He actually recognized a few of them as former students but didn’t remember any of them actually graduating. Their thoughts were lewd and suggestive, focused on only two things: getting money or sex from the men near them. 

Then his eyes fell upon a red-head. For a moment, she reminded him of Lily, but her hair was lighter, almost strawberry blonde. Her eyes were green but more oval in shape than his old friend. She made eye contact with him for a moment: a smile played upon her lips, an eyebrow arched in challenge and then she purposely turned away from him and back to the game. Severus swore to himself. He couldn’t get a thought out of her. She had definitely occluded her thoughts from him and worse, she knew that he had tried to enter hers. 

Severus moved slightly down the bar so he could get a better look. The bartender frowned at him. He knew the man would never say anything to anger anyone who wore the mark, but Severus had been sitting there for a considerable time and barely touched his drink. He finished it in one gulp and motioned to the man for another. He grabbed the second glass with little thought and continued his inspection. She was sitting on the lap of Avery. Severus shivered with disgust. Avery was one of the worst when it came to respecting women. She lazily ran her fingers over his shoulders as she pointed to his cards. Evidently she was giving him advice. Intrigued, Severus waved his wand and set an eavesdropping spell towards them. 

They were in a heated debate about the card game. Avery growled, “Shut up woman. You don’t know a damn thing.” He swatted her hand away from his cards. 

“Oh really,” she stiffened so she wasn’t relaxing in his lap and replied coolly. “And what is it you always call me?”

“My good luck charm,” he grumbled unwillingly. 

“If you want that good luck, I suggest you follow my suggestions,” she said pointedly, “or lose the game. I don’t care but you have a lot of galleons riding on this bet.”

“But what if Macnair has a dragon in his hand. I’ll lose if he does,” Avery argued.

“He doesn’t. He’s bluffing,” the woman replied resolutely. 

“What, can you see through his cards now?” he remarked snidely as he grabbed for his mead again,

The woman changed tactics. “Baby,” she cooed as she traced her fingers down his chest and even lower. “I only want what is best for you and I want you to win this game.”

Avery grunted but smiled lewdly. He placed the card she suggested down.

Curiously, Severus walked around the table inspecting the various cards in each hand. Avery was correct. If Macnair had a dragon card in his hand, Avery would lose but if he didn’t, Avery would walk away with a winning pot. He carefully walked behind the ministry worker and glanced at his cards. Avery was right. The woman was wrong. A dragon was indeed gripped in MacNair’s greasy fist. Severus sighed. He hoped the woman would be okay because Avery was sure to go after her in anger when he lost the game. 

The game continued around the table. On his next turn, Macnair grinned in triumph as he laid down his cards declaring himself the winner. Instead of the sound of congratulations, he was met with at silence and stunned faces. “What the hell are you playing at Macnair. You can’t win with that hand,” Rabastan sneered.

“What the hell are you talking about,” Macnair snarled. “I have a Wizards Flush. Look at the damn cards.”

The crowd stared at him and several snorted in laughter. Avery started wheezing he was laughing so much. “You would if you had a dragon card, but that‘s a double wand card not a dragon. “ He pointed to the furthest card from him, his handing shaking he was laughing so hard. 

Macnair looked down at this cards, his jaw dropping in surprise. “What the hell! I swear I had a dragon in my hand. I swear it!” 

“Don’t look at us Macnair,” Mulciber cackled. “You are the one that put on the anti-cheating spells on the cards. I think you just imagined it. Perhaps that firewhiskey made you see a dragon.” By now the rest of the table was laughing and snorting at the Death Eater’s obvious faux pas while he sputtered in indignation.

“Silence!” Avery commanded. “Macnair, you forfeit, for your stupidly. Let’s finish the game.” The laughter died down and the game continued. Within five minutes, Avery laid down his cards--an actual win this time. He gave a nasty grin as he swept the coins toward himself. The landslide win obviously brightened his mood for he turned his face toward the woman’s breast and buried his himself deep into her bosom while stroking her inner thigh. Severus watched as he grabbed a few silver-colored coins and dropped them down the woman’s cleavage. “Go get me another drink,” he demanded. The red head just smiled seductively and slipped off his lap to head toward the bar. 

Severus’s eyes followed her as she walked up to the counter. She reminded him of a lynx with an almost predatory gait. Carefully, she removed a coin from her bosom and a glint of silver flashed in his eyes before her hand closed over the coin. “Another mead for Avery and a glass of elf-made wine for me” she directed the bartender. Then her eyes slid over to Severus. She appraised him for a few moments before she turned her attention back to the counter. “Gaston, would you mind delivering that over to Avery? I’d like a few moments away from the card games.” The bartender nodded to her as she slid the coin over in her hand. As he took it, Severus realized it was a galleon not a sickle as he had thought. He furrowed his brow in confusion as the woman sipped her wine. Finally, she broke the silence. “A knut for your thoughts?” she asked.

Severus paused for a moment before answering, “Actually, closer to a sickle or a galleon,” he replied. 

Only because he was so observant did he noticed the woman stiffen for a moment before she moved back into a relaxed pose. “Why do you think your thoughts are worth so much?” she teased.

“Well, there are many that would pay that to understand my thoughts; however, I’m more interested in yours.” he teased back leaning his elbow onto the bar.

“Really?” she smiled seductively tracing her finger around her wine glass. “What would you like to know about me?”

“The games you play?” he replied. He lifted his eyes and made eye contact looking for any hint to understand her. “Macnair had a dragon in his hand. I walked around the card game and saw it but when he set the card down, it was a double wand. Then when you pulled that coin from your cleavage it was a sickle, but you handed a galleon to Gaston. That’s an interesting game you play.” It was his turn to grin as he definitely watched her smile drop and her spine stiffen. He held her gaze. He really wanted to attempt to delve into her mind again but knew it would be pointless. He had a feeling that she was coming to the same conclusion.

She studied him a moment before extending our her hand. Each nail was painted with swirls of blue, green and purple that twisted and turned around each other like the liquid of a muggle lava lamp as she moved her fingers. “I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced. My name is Quella Nimenski.”

“Severus Snape,” he replied. Instead of grasping it for a handshake, he bowed over her hand and gently placed his lips upon the back of it.

Her eyebrow arched at his name and she smiled at his genteel manner. “Well, well, Severus Snape. Your reputation precedes you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She withdrew her hand and picked up her wine glass, her eyes never leaving his face. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” She gave him one last look as if she was trying to undress him-whether it was to undress him physically or mentally, he wasn’t sure. Then she gave him one more secret smile and moved back over to Avery.

As soon as Avery saw her, he yanked her back into his lap. Another round of cards had started and he wasn’t doing as well as he would like. He needed his good luck charm back. Severus watched her carefully but she never turned back toward him. Severus Snape was sure of three things: First she was obviously cheating at the game to give Avery the advantage. He just could not figure out how. Second she was certainly an interesting woman and third, Severus had a feeling she was right. They would see each other again.


	2. The Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the last note died off, they stopped with his arms still tightened around her. Quella sharply took in her breath as his lips seemed to draw closer to her. At the last moment, she placed her hand on his chest and gentle pushed backward. “I should go,” she suggested, “Avery is probably. . .” Her voice died off as she stared into the depths of his black eyes.

Anti-litigation charm. Everything you recognize belongs to J K Rowling. 

Severus Snape was annoyed, to say the least. Dragged out of bed by the Dark Lord at three in the morning for a “chat” about the Order of the Phoenix, accosted by the toad, Umbridge, on his way back into the castle in the early morning and now summoned to the Headmaster’s office when all he really wanted to do was sleep. Thank goodness the Christmas hols started today.

Severus crumpled into his preferred chair. He felt like a house elf’s worn out towel tea towel and hoped that whatever Dumbledore wanted would be fast. Albus stood in front of him, fingering a small vial of a milky white substance. He held it in such a way that Severus was sure he was hoping the potion master would become curious and ask about it; However, the younger man was too exhausted to really care at the moment. 

Finally, not getting a reaction, Albus broke the silence. “I have something that I need you to do over the holidays,” the headmaster started with.

“You mean besides attend Death Eater meetings, mark papers, start lesson plans for the upcoming term and be a worthwhile member of the Order?” Severus sneered.

“Yes, besides those things,” Albus stated in his overly patient and patronizing voice. “Arthur Weasley was attacked last night while guarding the prophecy.”

“I know,” Severus cut in. “The Dark Lord demanded my attention a few hours after it happened. He wanted to know why Arthur was there and how close the Order could get to the prophecy. He was particularly interested in Potter and I don’t mean how to kill him. He wanted to know everything I could tell him about the boy’s scar.” Severus sat up a moment and rubbed his shoulders. He wasn’t the one who failed last night. Nagini was the one who hadn’t gotten close to the prophecy yet the Dark Lord seemed fit to punish him for the stupid snake’s botched attempt. 

Dumbledore tightened his fist around the vial. A look of alarm flashed across his face before his eyes narrowed, focusing on Severus’s face. He wasn’t stupid enough to try to legilimise his spy but it was obvious he wanted more information on that topic. “This isn’t good,” Albus admitted. “I want to talk to you about your conversation with the Dark Lord later, but for now, I need your help with this.” 

He tossed the vial to Severus who caught it with a quick flick of his wrist. He scrutinized the vial for a moment, watching the liquid undulate slowly up and down the glass sides. “It looks like some sort of venom, possibly spider, more than likely snake,” Severus declared. 

Albus nodded in agreement. “It’s Nagini’s venom. I need you to make an antidote for it.”

Severus’s eyes snapped up to the old man’s face but he showed no emotion. “How in the hell did you get this?” he demanded.

“It was delivered to me,” Albus explained “about three hours ago.”

“A sample of Nagini’s venom just happened to come into your possession six hours after she bites a member of the Order?” Severus’s voice was incredulous.

“Oh, I think we can both agree that it isn’t a coincidence,” the headmaster admitted. “Beyond that, you don’t need to worry about the source. Just understand that I trust this source and it is Nagini’s venom. Please make the antidote. I would like to see it with twenty-four hours. Arthur’s injuries won’t stop bleeding.”

Severus narrowed his eyes and sneered, “I need more information that that Albus. What is going on?” Albus ignored the professor’s demands and began to dip his quill into some ink, but Severus wasn’t going to be deterred again. “Albus, you have another spy working for you, don’t you?”

The scratching of the headmaster’s quill paused. He sighed and set it down. “And if I did, do you think it is in anyone’s best interests to tell you?”

“Yes,” he immediately declared. “I can observe him. I can determine if he really wants to help the Order or if it just a facade.”

Albus nodded and stroked his beard. “While this is true, if one of your covers was blown and you were broken, it would become a double catastrophe for us. Besides, I don’t know who he is. He has sent us information occasionally, all of which has panned out.”

“Hence, you trust him when he said that this was Nagini’s venom,” Severus concluded incredulously studying the vial even more carefully.

Albus nodded in affirmation. “Severus, I know this is hard on you but it actually makes your position more secure. He goes by the code name of Janus. If Janus finds out information that you had no way of obtaining, you would not be as suspect by Voldemort.” 

Severus wanted to argue with the old man but understood the logic behind the statement. He stood up and pocketed the venom. “It looks like I’m not getting any sleep, am I?” With that he strode out of the room with a swish of his black robes. 

 

It actually took Severus almost a week to create an antidote to the snake’s venom but Dumbledore didn’t complain and Arthur was back at headquarters soon after Christmas. Severus attempted to discuss the other spy more with Dumbledore but the wizard was silent on the matter. He seemed most worried about Harry’s dreams and Voldemort’s interest in Harry’s scar.

 

______________________________________________________

New Year’s Eve found Severus dressed to the nines and apparating to Malfoy Manor. Whether they believed the Dark Lord had returned or not, all the elitists of society were invited and Severus would be forced to spend another wretched evening immersed in small talk which always resulted in a huge headache for him. “On the plus side,” he told himself, “at least he would have a chance to do a bit more prodding around for that new spy of Dumbledore’s”

Once again, Narcissa had outdone herself. Dancers whirled among columns of ice which spiraled upward and then bent into graceful arches. Chandeliers spent sparkles of light downward creating an almost rainbow effect as the waltzing robes dipped and swayed to the orchestra. Trays of hor d'oeuvres and champagne magically rotated among the crowds. The hostess, herself, stood close to the entrance way as she graciously greeted her guests. Although he wouldn’t consider her a friend, Severus always found the Lady Malfoy congenial and genuine. She clasped his hands as he kissed her cheek and make the proper compliments toward her ice blue dress robes and diamonds.

He quickly found some wine to chase away the headache that had already begun and found himself a position from where it was easy to scout out the ballroom. A variety of A-list wizards were in attendance. Several people were surrounding Fudge and laughing at what was no doubt a lame joke. At least half of the Wizengamot were scattered about the room talking to various heads of ministry departments as well as people well known in their field and various Death Eaters whom had convinced the world otherwise. Severus groaned when he realized that Damocles Belby was purposely striding toward him. Belby was a pompous ass who, every time he saw Severus, felt the need to mention what a dead end job Severus was in and how he would never achieve success in the potion field if he was instructing those sniveling snot-noses.

“Severus,” the rotund man boomed. He paused for a moment and grabbed another champagne from a passing tray and then continued his sojourn to the fellow potion master. “Are you still at Hogwarts?”

“Obviously,” Severus replied dryly desperately trying to find an excuse to exit. 

Belby wiped some sweat off his protruding brow and shook his head, “I don’t understand why you are still teaching,”

“Neither do I,” Severus quipped which made a rather tipsy Belby to guffaw and slap the younger man on the shoulder causing his drink to spill slightly.

“How’s that nephew of mine doing?” the Wolfbane inventor asked. “Earning an O in potions?”

Severus was about to tell the obnoxious man that his nephew was as likely to earn an Outstanding in Potions this year as Belby was to earn a beauty contest when a delicate hand touched him on the arm and five painted nails curled around his bicep. 

A silken voice interrupted Belby’s interrogation. “Severus, there you are. I’ve been waiting for my dance.” Both men stopped their conversation to focus on the woman. It was Quella Nimenski. If Narcissa was dressed as the ice queen today, Quella was the fire. Her gown had a tight yellow bodice that flared out to orange and then red. Her neckline was plunging enough to gain a man’s interest but modest enough to encourage the imagination. Her fingernails were, again, a swirl of color but this time warm to match her dress. She looped her arm through Severus’s and turned toward the paunchy potioneer. “Severus, are you going to introduce us?”

Belby’s eyes almost popped out of his socket. Severus could read his thoughts without making eye contact. “How did Snape snag this creature?” He grinned slightly at her charade and made the introductions. 

Quella expertly engaged in the small talk that eluded him all while lightly rubbing her hand up and down his arm. As quickly as proprietary allowed, she made their excuses. “Mr. Belby, it was a pleasure to meet you, but Severus asked me to dance earlier and I think I should indulge him.”

Damocles assured her that there was no offense but perhaps she could save a dance for him later. She managed to make a non-committal comment and still leave the man standing there with a fool’s smile upon his face. 

She led Severus to the dance floor where he placed one hand on her waist pulling her closer and began to guide her into the steps. “I asked you to dance earlier?” he asked as they glided across the floor.

“Well, not with words, but if facial expressions could ask to get you out of a situation with Belby, then yes, you were practically begging me.” She smiled as he chuckled. Neither one of them missed a beat to the music as he pulled her in even tighter and their dance became more complex. “Besides,” she continued after a few moments of silence, “You told me that you liked my games so I thought that would be a good one to play.”

“Indeed it was,” he murmured as he stared into her green eyes. With her looks and witty charm, he could almost pretend that he was gliding with Lily across the floor--not that Lily would have ever been invited to a Malfoy party. “No Avery today?” he questioned hoping that she would confirm.

“Oh he’s here.” she dashed his petite dream. “There’s cards in the back room and well. . . you know Avery.” She shrugged her shoulders as if that explained it all.

“He’s a fool,” Severus declared. “He could have a beautiful woman like you in his arms and instead he wastes in on gambling.”

“Thank you,” she said demurely, “but at least it’s been a boon for you.” She gave him a teasing grin as the song ended and she pulled away. “Would you like to get a drink?” she asked but Severus didn’t relinquish his hold. 

Instead he leaned in and whispered. “Actually, I would prefer another dance.” Silently she nodded her assent as the music started back up. She quickly recognized it as a salsa and Severus eyes seemed to smolder as he pulled her closer. Electricity crackled between them as he tightened his grip and slid his hand down her back. It was quickly obvious that they were the primo dance couple and several others moved off to watch them glide across the floor but as they moved along, they only had eyes for each other, lost into a world of music and motion. 

As the last note died off, they stopped with his arms still tightened around her. Quella sharply took in her breath as his lips seemed to draw closer to her. At the last moment, she placed her hand on his chest and gentle pushed backward. “I should go,” she suggested, “Avery is probably. . .” Her voice died off as she stared into the depths of his black eyes.

“Snape!” A loud voice snapped them out of their reverie. Quella turned to see Avery striding toward them, his face red with anger, his fists balled up. “What the hell do you think you are doing with my girl?” he demanded.

“Relax, baby. We were just dancing.” Quella cooed, her entire demeanor changing in a blink of an eye. Avery grabbed her arm roughly and Severus started to object but Quella held up her hand to stop him. She turned her focus to the drunk Death Eater. “I needed a break from the smoke infested room that you had secluded yourself in. Let’s get you a drink and then we’ll head back to the card table, okay?”

Avery looked like he wanted to object and attempted to push around her toward Severus when Lucius appeared near the trio. He spoke quietly to Avery who gave Severus one last look of loathing before turning around and stomping off, dragging Quella with him. She glanced back and gave Severus one reassuring smile and then disappeared into the crowd.

Severus nodded his thanks to Lucius and headed toward the bar. While he had no doubt that Quella was a capable woman, he was worried about what type of situation he has just landed her in. Part of him wanted to go after them and make sure Avery didn’t take his anger out on her but the other part warned him that it would just make it worse for her, so he stood there sullenly, draining his glass of champagne. 

Several hours and almost a dozen drinks later, Severus’s annual New Year Eve headache was in full swing. He glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes until midnight and he hadn’t seen Quella again. He had spent all evening thinking about her and it annoyed him. He barely knew the woman, but he already felt obsessed, a feeling he didn’t like because it meant he wasn’t in control. Perhaps it was because she reminded him of Lily with her reddish hair and green eyes. Although, he admitted to himself, Lily could never dance like that. He had attempted to teach her when they were teenagers but the Gryffindor was hopeless. 

By now, he had reached well beyond his limit and it wasn’t just a headache but a spinning one at that. He never drank this much and he cursed that woman for doing it to him. He stumbled out of the ballroom and into one of the Manor’s endless hallways, preferring to avoid the cheers and kisses of New Year’s Eve. He made his way deeper into the house until the orchestra’s music could barely heard.

Eventually he found an alcove and sank down to the floor wishing for something--he didn’t know what. He wished the Dark Lord had never returned. He wished he wasn’t so entrenched in this role he must now play. He wished he could tell Dumbledore to go to hell. He wished he could get that damn woman out of his head. He hung his head and let the despair wash over him.

Soft footsteps padded down the hallway. They came to a stop in front of him. He felt the person kneel next to him but didn’t bother to look up. Two long fingers lifted his chin up to examine him. “You look like hell, Severus,” Quella said. “Did you drink the entire bar after I left you?”

Severus just squinted at her for a moment and then asked, “Where’s Avery?”

“Passed out in one of the bedrooms.” She rolled her eyes in obvious disgust. “Lucius said he’ll send him home tomorrow. He offered to let me stay too,” She shuddered at the thought.

Severus turned toward her and mumbled, ”Lumos.” His wand tip lightened the space between them sending eerie shadows across their faces. “Did he hurt you?” he demanded roughly. 

“No,” Quella said but Severus didn’t believe her. He grabbed her chin searching for bruises or glamour charms across her face and shoulders. “Would you relax?” she snapped. “He didn’t touch me. He tried but was so drunk that he couldn’t throw a straight punch. He came nowhere near me.”

Severus scowled at her explanation. “I know Avery. He is one of the worst and most vile toward women. He would keep hitting until he was sure his target was bloodied.”

Quella agreed, “True. Unless of course, he was convinced that he hit his target the first few times.”

“And what would convince him of that?” Severus demanded.

She smiled patiently at him. “The same way he was convinced that he won that card game and the same way you were convinced that I paid with a galleon instead of a sickle. I can take care of myself.” Her eyes blazed with indignation but then softened. “Come on, let’s get you home.” She put her hands around him and helped pull him up to a standing position. His head held no coherent thoughts and Severus realized this would not do. The last thing he wanted was to be a babbling drunk in front of this woman. Severus slowly pulled a bottle of pinkish potion from his dress robes, uncorked it and gulped down the rose colored liquid. Five minutes ago, he hadn’t cared if he was drunk or sober but now being sober seemed more important especially as he tried to understand the riddle that was this enchanting creature. Slowly his eyes cleared and his throbbing head began to dim. “Feeling better,” she asked.

He nodded, so she began to remove her arms from his waist but he caught her wrist. “Will you explain what you meant by convincing him?” 

Quella bit her lip, shook her head, and stared him in the eyes . “No.”

Severus furrowed his brow in annoyance. This woman was playing with fire. Didn’t she understand what Avery was capable of? As his black eyes probed her green ones, he realized that she understood quite well, but she had no fear of the drunk Death Eater. 

“I told you. I can take care of myself,” she repeated her eyes hardening daring him to disagree with her.

Severus nodded. “I believe you, but perhaps you would like someone else to be there, someone else to take care of you instead.” Quella’s eyes softened. Her deep red lips parted slightly, almost beckoning him. He knew it was completely inappropriate. This was Avery’s woman but at the moment he didn’t care. The heat that had started with their almost erotic dance began to course through his veins again. He reached up and ran his finger down her smooth cheek. She closed her eyes and gave in to the sensation, her hands moving slowly up his chest. Taking a chance, he leaned in closer to nibble on her ear. He could feel her shiver slightly at his breath upon her skin. 

He slowly moved down past her jaw, closer and closer to her lips. Suddenly she stiffened and pushed him away with her long fingers “Severus. . . I can’t. I’m sorry. This won’t work, Avery, and so much else.. . .” Quella pulled away and took two steps back, giving them space. “I’m sure, I’ll see you around,” she whispered and then disappeared leaving him in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading The Other Spy. Drop me a line and tell me what you think. (It's okay if you don't like Quella. You aren't the first to tell me that.)


	3. The Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cautiously, Quella removed the map. She was about to place it in her bag, when the ceiling lights began to flash and a siren wailed, echoing off the barren walls.“

Anti-litigation Spell: Everything you recognize belongs to J. K. Rowling

Once again, Severus felt like he was in a war, a tug-of-war. He was the child that was brought before King Solomon but this time both mothers, or in this case, masters, wanted to pull him apart. The Dark Lord was impatient. He wanted that prophecy. It had been two months since Nagini’s failure to retrieve it and their master had only become more irascible with each passing day. Dumbledore was just being Dumbledore, secretive and manipulative, traits that annoyed and endangered Severus more everyday. 

Someone informed the Dark Lord about a map of the Department of Mysteries that showed secret passages in and out of the Department. The Dark Lord wanted that map and Severus had been chosen as part of the Death Eaters faction to acquire it for him. Of course, Severus told Dumbledore, but the old codger only seemed amused by the idea and waved Severus off like he was an insignificant fly, making the spy’s blood boil. Why did the headmaster bother keeping Order members on constant guard at the front door and then allow the Dark Lord access to some back door? Dumbledore wouldn’t say. Rarely did Dumbledore say anything other than to give Severus more orders or demand information. He rarely shared facts he had been given which made Severus’s job that much more difficult. “Come to think of it.”thought Severus, “What I am is an under appreciated peon, being constantly ordered about by two equally demanding aloof dictators of their contrasting realms. What I should do is tell them both where to put their demands,” However, in his soul he knew he wouldn’t so he just heaved a deep sigh of discontent. 

So, here he was sneaking into the Ministry of Magic at midnight on a Saturday. Macnair had paid off someone, so one floo allowed them in but didn’t record their entry. Once he stepped inside the entrance, Severus looked for potential threats, but saw none. Evidently the guard had been paid off as well and had chosen this moment to take a coffee break. Ignoring the gold lifts, the Death Eaters split, taking the two stairways to the ninth floor. 

Severus was the first to reach the Department of Mystery floor. Senses heightened, he observed everything in his surroundings as he moved down the corridor. There was a reason he was first in line with two other Death Eaters trailing behind him. He could sense and undo wards almost as fast as those bumbling fools could run into them and set the alarms off. Finally Severus waved his wand and muttered a spell that broke down the last magical barrier. Now he had a full view of the long hallway lined with various office doors. He could see the wand light of Augustus Rookwood and his team at the other end. Cautiously, both teams met where the corridors made a T. Then they turned and walked down yet another narrow hallway. At the end stood the door that was currently plaguing Harry Potter’s dreams. 

Rookwood motioned them forward as Severus continued to scan. His brain ran in high gear. His mind formed one negative connotation after another “Where in the hell are the Order of Phoenix guards? Dumbledore has made guard duty a high priority for the group but tonight the place is as empty as a tomb. The old dragon knew that the Dark Lord’s forces were planning to come tonight and it appears he has chosen retreat instead of confrontation.” For a moment, he wondered if Rookwood would decide to just go directly after the prophecy since protection seemed to be at a minimal, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. Of the five of them, only Rookwood knew what was behind that door and he doubted the security measures stopped beyond its portal. Plus the Dark Lord’s instructions had been very explicit. Get the map and bring it to him.

Just before they approached the mysterious door, Rookwood held his hand up, motioning them to halt. He approached the door. When he was within a hair’s length of it, he stopped and turned abruptly left . Then he placed his hand on the luminous black walls. Lightly his fingertips searched until he came the desired spot. A victorious grin spread across his face. He motioned an outline to Snape and both used their wands to trace along that certain path. Suddenly the edge of a door appeared in fiery orange. Rookwood grabbed Pyrite and pulled him into the new doorway. Severus nodded to the last two, who would stand guard in the hallways and then he, too, disappeared into the black abyss of the waiting room. 

Severus wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side, but he sure didn’t expect what he found . It was just an office. Desks piled high with papers were scattered about and memos flew leisurely around the light fixtures. Rookwood pointed to the floor. “Only step on the blue carpeted tiles, no magic to get across.” he ordered them. Severus raised his eyes in surprise. There was quite a bit of distance between some of the blue squares. He hoped they were all good at the long jump.

The trio had to climb over three desks and Rookwood grabbed the front of Pyrites robes when he almost lost his balance on the edge of a blue square, but they finally traversed the office of obstacles. Now, Rookwood stood in front of three doors, all identical, all three with five door knobs of assorted colors. Pyrites moved to open the middle door,, but Rookwood shoved him aside and sent him flying backward. “What?” the younger Death Eater whined. “You said that we would go through the middle door.”

“No, you imbecile,” the former Unspeakable growled, “I said we would knock on the middle door.” We go through the one of the side doors.”

“Which one?” the other man asked as he struggled to get up.

“I have no idea,” Rookwood said. “The password is always changing as is the correct door. Snape, I need your help but whatever you do, don’t touch a damn doorknob!” 

Severus nodded and approached the left door carefully. Rookwood slowly began to wave his wand on the middle door in various patterns as Severus observed the door in front of him, but no matter what Rookwood did, Snape couldn’t see any change. Then he moved to the right most door. Again, Rookwood began waving his wand along each of the five doorknobs. As he did, Severus could feel slight shifts in the magic of his door. 

“There, Rook,” Snape called out. “The red door knob changed.” Rookwood nodded his head in acknowledgement. Slowly the two worked through the wards like a muggle thief would crack a safe. Pyrites tapped his opulently clad foot impatiently until Rookwood waved his wand at the man turning his dragon skinned boot into a fluffy bunny slipper. The man scowled but kept his feet still. Finally the right door opened and the men slipped inside.

It was a bare room with a mottled gray floor and white-washed walls. They stood on a wooden dias about five feet wide. At the far end stood another raised platform. Sitting crossed legged on that side was a woman who looked like she was meditating. She lifted her head at the sound of their entrance. It was Quella. “Hello boys,” she called out across the room. “It’s about time you got here.”  
_____________________________________________

 

Pyrite immediately took a step off the dias, but Rookwood, once again, pulled him back before his foot touched the floor. “Fool,” the former Unspeakable hissed gripping the front of the man’s robes and yanking him off his feet. “You have done nothing but hinder us. Do not do anything unless I tell you. Do not move unless I tell you. Do not breath unless I tell you! Is that understood.”

Dumbly, the other Death Eater nodded. Rookwood released him and turned toward Snape. “If you touch the floor, you will die.”

Pyrites paled and sat down on the platform shaking. Snape rolled his eyes. “And I assume the only method to cross would be that broom over there,” he pointed to a broom propped up next to Quella.

Rookwood nodded. “Regular brooms won’t work down here. Neither, of course, will portkeys or apparition. That’s why the Dark Lord ordered you to accompany me. Besides your excellent skills at ward detection, you have another talent. Can you get me other there?”

Severus evaluated the distance across the room as well as the height. He nodded once. “Get on my back, Rookwood,” he ordered. The other Death Eater didn’t hesitate. Snape closed his eyes and raised his arms to a T. Then he pushed up on his toes and stepped off the dias. Pyrite gasped in astonishment for instead of falling, Snape seemed to float for a moment and then slowly glide across to the other side. 

Once there, Rookwood immediately scrambled down. “I apologize for the slow pace,” Severus spoke up. “With this enclosed space, I thought it better for caution than speed.” 

Rookwood simply nodded and faced the woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Quella.”

“Quite,” she replied. “Let’s get this over with.” Each person who worked with the Department of Mysteries had a magical code embedded in their palm. It allowed them access to certain areas, namely the office area and map room. Much to the Dark Lord delight, Rookwood’s was still active (typical incompetence of the Ministry); however to his dismay, neither Rookwood’s nor Quella’s would allow his henchman into the prophecy room. Quella and Rookwood raised their hands as if saluting the wall. As they pressed their palms to the smooth surface, the wall dissipated leaving a small alcove displaying a large brown parchment: the map of the secret passages out of the Department of Mysteries.

Cautiously, Quella removed the map. She was about to place it in her bag, when the ceiling lights began to flash and a siren wailed, echoing off the barren walls. “Shite,” Rookwood cursed. Suddenly Pyrite began to scream. His dias was slowly sliding into the wall. Frantically, he clawed at the door but it was locked tight.

Quella shoved the map and the broom at Rookwood. “You have to get out of here before the platform disappears. Severus’s flying it too slow and the broom will only hold one person. Use the map to find a secret passage to escape. If you are not over the wall when his foot hits the floor. . “ She didn’t have to finish her sentence for the men to realize how perilous this was. Rookwood grabbed the map and shot off their platform. He blasted a hole above the door with his wand and never slowed down. Pyrite attempted to grab his leg’s but Rookwood deftly avoided the man. With nothing left to stand on, Pyrite plunged to the deadly floor.  
Quella grabbed Severus robe’s and pulled him back into the alcove where the map had been as the room lit up with a thousand lightning strikes zigzagging from every direction at incredible speed. Severus stared in amazement at the electric display. There is no way anyone could survive it and he doubted a shield charm would have helped. “Why wasn’t this platform hit?” he asked.

“Because if an unauthorized person made it this far, the Department would want to interrogate the person. No one is asking him any questions,” she pointed toward the other end of the room. Pyrite’s body was prone upon the floor resembling the prized pig at a barbeque.

Severus nodded in agreement. “Do you have another idea of escape?”

Quella nodded, “Yes, but it will require a combination of our talents. May I get a ride back?” 

Severus nodded but paused when both the sirens and lightning stopped. Quella wrapped her hands around his neck and whispered in his ear. “No matter who you see, no matter what they are doing, no matter where they are looking, ignore them and leave the rest to me. Let’s go.”

Severus arched his eyebrow and turned his head to respond. “I hope your plan is as good as your salsa dancing.”

They had floated halfway across the room, when Severus could hear voices approaching. “Get this door open, Ainsley! What the hell happened! I want some answers now,” a bullhorn of a voice echoed through the hole in the wall. Finally the door opened and the platform began to reappear. Three Unspeakables stepped onto the moving platform and surveyed the scene. Severus froze. Why the hell didn’t he disillusion them before he started to fly across. The trio looked around but they seemed to look right through them. Severus glanced at his arms. He could see himself easily. Whatever charm Quella used, it wasn’t impacting his sight. 

“Shite!” the beefiest cussed pointing to where the map used to preside.

“How the hell did the person get out? The door was locked. There is no other possible way to get out of here?” the second one demanded but no one answered. It was obviously they could not see the huge hole above the door either. 

The third one glanced under the platform and saw the remains of Pyrite. He motioned to the others. The beefy one took once glance and began to give orders. “Get that floor shut off. I want to get down there. Make sure the entire Ministry is on lock-down. He may have had an accomplice.”

As his underling scrambled to do his bidding Quella whispered in Severus’s ear. “Time to go. Through the hole that your associate was so kind to make if you don’t mind.” Severus nodded and flew through the hole above the men’s head. His foot came within reaching distance of Beefy, but the man never looked up.

Once back in the office, Severus settled to walking. The room was crawling with Unspeakables who were casting every revealing spell known to wizard-kind, but they just ignored the pair as they strolled out the door. When they passed another man in the narrow hallway, Quella pushed Severus into the wall and flattened her body against him, her legs pressed against his groin. He wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her heart beating rapidly against his chest and could see a sheen of sweat glistening on her face. The man scurried by his cloak brushing against Severus’s arms but the Unspeakable never noticed. 

Once they reached the Ministry’s atrium, guards stood everywhere, scrutinizing everyone, but the woman appeared nonchalant. “You have a lot of explaining to do,” he hissed at her but she just smiled and linked her arm with his. When a Ministry worker stepped into a fireplace to exit, the couple followed suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your comments. Please drop me a line.


	4. Janus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s just say, I’ll be sharing enough information with Dumbledore tonight and I don’t like to reveal all my secrets at once,” she said.
> 
> “You’re just like Dumbledore,” he accused her. “Filled with secrets.”
> 
> “As are you,” she shot back

Severus and Quella walked down the Muggle Street putting as much distance between themselves and the Aurors’ new crime scene as possible. Severus tightened his grip on Quella’s arm as if he was afraid she might disappear in a puff of smoke. Normally proud of his ability to handle any situation with cool and indifferent composure, he felt like he was ready to explode. His heart beat rapidly and a thousand question ran through his mind as he pulled her down the street. Was Quella a Death Eater? Had she met the Dark Lord personally? Why were they able to just walk about of a ministry that was on lockdown? They weren’t under any known enchantments so why did not one person seemed to notice them? Did Rookwood escape with the map? 

 

Severus cursed himself for allowing the map to leave the Ministry and cursed Dumbledore for not taking the necessary precautions. Now, the Dark Lord had the map, a map that showed ever changing secret passages to every room in the Department of Mysteries. With that map, Voldemort could go anywhere he wanted and no one would be wiser. Everything was whirling in his head. All he had were questions. He needed answers. He glanced at the woman who now seemed to be on an evening stroll through the streets of London. She had the answers. He knew it and his calm demeanor broke.

 

Severus took a sharp turn. Quella gave a yelp as he pulled her into a tiny alley. His feet crunched upon broken bottles and cigarette butts as he threw her against the rough brick wall. “What the hell happened back there? Don’t give me any bullshit.” He was so tempted to squeeze her head like a lemon between his large hands and force into her mind but as soon as the thought appeared, it was gone. Quella’s eyes narrowed. Her mind was already behind a wall, probably made of concrete. He would never get in without seriously damaging her. 

 

“Ma’am, is this guy hurting you?” a voice in the alley’s entrance broke their staring contest. 

 

Quella wiggled slightly to loosen his grip. She leaned around his shoulder and giggled a bit, a slightly tipsy look on her face. “No, no, but thank you for asking. My boyfriend just couldn’t wait to get home for a snog.” Her voice was sing-sing, almost ditsy like she didn’t have a care in the world. Severus just stared at her incredulously. This woman could turn on a dime. She was a true chameleon with the ability to change herself an almost instant. Currently she appeared like she had just teetered out of a local pub. No one would suspect that she had actually escaped from one of the most highly secured places in London just moments before.

 

“Are you sure?” the muggle double checked. He had obviously seen Snape’s vicious yanking of her into the side street and was determined to be the good Samaritan.

 

“Oh yes, quite sure,” Quella replied. “Again, thank you for checking but we’re fine.” To emphasize she clasped her hands around Severus’s neck and pulled him down as if to enjoy a snog right then. Their noses were just touching when they heard his feet shuffling away. 

 

Quella’s shoulders relaxed a bit as the man left but she refused to let go. Their heaving breathing mixed together. Their bodies were so close he could feel her breasts pushing against his chest. Her fingers played with the hair at the nap of his neck sending chills down his spine. “You are quite an accomplished actress,” Severus commented dryly. “You can jump from one play to another almost midline and with no visible effort”

 

“Thank you,” Quella whispered. “That is quite a compliment coming from a man who moves between the worlds of dark and light with a twinge of pain.” One of her hands stayed firmly grasping his neck while the other slid down and lightly covered his left forearm and squeezed the cloth around the Dark Mark. “The question is which side are you on?” She stood on her tiptoes to close the gap. Her lips were sultry and sweet. Her tongue teased him flicking in and out across his mouth until he could bare it no longer. Severus opened to deepen the kiss, his hands wrapping around the small of her back to pull her in closer, to taste her sweetness even more. 

 

Finally, a lone siren racing down the high street brought him to his senses. He pulled away and stepped back to put space between them. Quella pouted for a moment but then nodded briefly “We should get out of here,” she suggested turning business-like with a blink of an eye.

 

Severus took a deep breath, pushing his emotions down, As tempting as this woman was, she was obviously working for the Dark Lord. He couldn’t get involved with any woman right now. Emotional entanglements created vulnerability and becoming involved with a woman who worked for the dark and was dating Avery was just suicide. “Yes,” he replied, resurrecting a blank wall facade. “The Dark Lord needs our report.”

 

Quella bit her lip, a moment of indecision crossed her face. “True,” she agreed, “but I think we should wait a bit on that. He won’t know how long it took us to escape so we can buy some time. Let’s hope Rookwood made it back. He can give the honor of the full report.” Severus stared at her suspiciously trying to work out her motives in such a declaration, but Quella didn’t elaborate. “Don’t you need to report to Dumbledore, too?” she asked. 

 

Severus nodded. He didn’t understand where she was going with this. It was obvious she understood things that he did not. One thing that Severus loathed was being kept in the dark, a habit of Dumbledore’s that infuriated him to no end. “Why?” he sneered. 

 

“Because” she explained. “I was thinking about joining you when you visit the headmaster.”

 

Severus’s jaw almost dropped open in surprise and alarm but he turned it quickly into typical Severus scowl. “Does the Dark Lord not trust me enough so that he’s now sending you to spy on me while I spy for him?”

 

Quella studied him for a moment looking nonplussed. “Actually, he hasn’t ordered me to come with you and he will not be informed of the conversation. Now, are you ready to go? I will have to do side-along apparition as I’ve never been to Hogwarts before. I am a Beauxbaton girl you know” She tapped her wand upon her head. For a moment it looked like invisible paint was pouring down her body until nothing but a shimmer remained. Then she tucker her arm in the crook of his elbow and stood still for a moment. “Whenever you are ready, Severus,” she reminded the flabbergasted spy.

 

________________________________________________

 

Neither one said a word as they apparated in front of the iron gates and took the path up the castle. It was half past two in the morning and the hustle and bustle of the castle had been exchanged for deep slumber. They did pass the Bloody Baron as Snape led her up the main staircase but the potion master simple nodded to the ghost who returned the gesture. Severus wasn’t worried. Even if the ghost noticed the shimmer of Quella’s Disillusionment charm, he would never mention it. There was something to be said for Slytherin House loyalty especially to its Head. 

 

As they approached the gargoyle, Quella slowed down and pulled Severus around to face her. “I know I haven’t explained everything to you yet, but please don’t mention exactly how we escaped. Please don’t tell Dumbledore how we walked right through and no one saw us. I promise I will explain it to you later.”

 

“Why not?” Severus hissed. He was sure that she was working for the Dark Lord but her insistence in coming here intrigued him.

 

“Let’s just say, I’ll be sharing enough information with Dumbledore tonight and I don’t like to reveal all my secrets at once,” she said.

 

“You’re just like Dumbledore,” he accused her. “Filled with secrets.”

 

“As are you,” she shot back and then she softened a bit. “Severus, have I ever give you any reason to mistrust me?”

 

Severus studied her for a moment trying to come up with an neutral answer. “Yes and no. You’ve done things I wouldn’t trust if you were on the side of the light and you’ve done things I would mistrust if you sided with the dark. Frankly, I can’t trust you because I don’t know who you are.”

 

Quella nodded in her head in understanding. “Fair enough,” she said, “but just remember we’re in the same boat on this one.” She grabbed his hand and headed back toward the gargoyle. Severus gave the password to the gargoyle and stepped up on the moving stairwell all while trying to determine if “being in the same boat” meant being on the same side of this war or their current inability to trust each other. 

 

________________________________

Dumbledore was up and pacing in tight circles near his desk when the pair entered his office. He stopped suddenly at Severus’s entrance and motioned to the potion master’s favorite chair. The headmaster arched his eyes questioningly at the disillusioned guest but simply motioned to the other guest chair.

 

He walked around the desk and set down heavily, never taking his eyes off of Snape. “It’s good to see you made it home. I hope there weren’t any problems.” Dumbledore started. “Are you going to introduce me to our guest? Who is he?”

 

Severus was very hesitant around Quella. She, obviously, helped the Death Eaters get the map, but she insisted on reporting to Dumbledore. Since, she insisted on the latter, she knew he was a double agent. She might be reporting to the Dark Lord about this conversation. With that in mind, he phrased his thoughts carefully.

 

“If you mean no problems as that Death Eaters successfully retrieved the map from the Department of Mysteries, then yes, I believe so.” Severus sneered. “Last I saw Rookwood was racing out of the department on a broom with the map tucked in his robe. With only minimal luck, he’s giving the map and a report to the Dark Lord as we speak. As far as our invisible guest, I’ll let her do the honors.”

 

“Her?” Dumbledore questioned turning his attention to the “empty” chair. “I assume that you had a role in this, too? May I ask your name or see your face?”

 

“I had two roles in tonight’s activities.” a woman’s voice echoed from the chair. “I followed the Dark Lord’s orders and for the first time, I had a request from you, which as you can see I was successful at for he is very much alive,” a shimmering hand of air gestured toward Severus. “Should I resent that your questioning tone implies you don’t think a woman could follow your instructions?”

 

Dumbledore’s eyes lit up and began to twinkle. “My apologies ma’am. I didn’t mean to come across as a . . . “

 

“Sexist pig?”

 

“If you feel it fits,” Dumbledore acquiesced. “Janus, I assume or may I call you Jania?”

 

Quella, once again, tapped her wand on her head, decloaking herself. Slowly her red hair appeared with a calm face followed by her black robes. “I still prefer, Janus. The anonymity of gender helps with the concept of incognito. Don’t you think?”

 

“Very much,” Dumbledore smiled warmly, “and may I thank you as well for an excellent job tonight. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

 

Snape glared between Dumbledore and Quella before jumping in with a sneer. “Albus ordered you, a Death eater’s whore, to keep me alive!” Severus growled. 

 

“Severus,” Dumbledore gave his most patient look. “You are very important to me and the Dark Lord sent you into the depths of the ministry on a reckless mission. Although, I know you are extremely capable, please forgive me for taking out a bit of. . . insurance.”

 

Severus gritted his teeth. He somehow doubted he, personally, was important but rather Dumbledore wanted his role in gaining information insured. The spy observed the two people trying to decide how much Quella should be trusted with. “Albus, I don’t think you understand the consequences here. With the Dark Lord holding that map, he has multiple ways into the Department of Mysteries. There is no way the Order can guard all of them especially since it doesn’t know where all those entrances are. No one knows them, without the map!” he emphasized. Severus’s voice never rose in anxiety but there might have been a slight hint of it as he finished his speech or at least exasperation of Dumbledore’s shortsightedness.

 

Once again, Dumbledore nodded but it was Quella that answered. “Relax, Severus. I know it’s not in your nature but trust a bit. Dumbledore isn’t worried. He obvious understands something about the situation that you don’t. Relax and trust.”

 

Severus sent her a scathing look but merely sat back with his arms crossed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading about Quella and Snape. I'm sure no one is surprised that she is the spy. Please drop me a comment. Let me know what you think of the story.


	5. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once they reached the apparition point, the redhead waved at him, as if to part company, but Severus lunged at her pulling her forcefully to his body. “Answers,” he growled in her ear. Quella’s eyes grew round for a moment but then she nodded and twisted them into darkness.

Severus’s head was, once again spinning, as he tried to ascertain the events that has unfolded around him. Together they quickly outlined the events of the evening to Dumbledore. When he asked the exact manner of escape, Severus left it was “complicated,” an answer which may not have satisfied the great wizard but kept his inane questioning at bay. Quella and the headmaster exchanged pleasantries about working together and the former promised to continue delivering any insightful information to the Order but she reminded Dumbledore that the meeting needed to be kept brief citing their need to check-in with the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord, thankfully, was in a very good mood. He clasped the map in one hand and Rookwood sat nearby raising a tumbler of Ogden’s in celebration while Severus and Quella approached and dropped to one knee for their report. One surprising part was how Quella gushed on about Rookwood. The way she described it, one would think that the former Unspeakable had, single-handedly, acquired the map and she and Severus were mere decorative ornaments to the task. Severus furrowed his brow in confusion. Those who had succeeded for the Dark Lord would usually paint themselves as paramount to the operation in attempts to gain favor.

Hence, the pair were able to escape under a half of an hour. Once they reached the apparition point, the redhead waved at him, as if to part company, but Severus lunged at her pulling her forcefully to his body. “Answers,” he growled in her ear. Quella’s eyes grew round for a moment but then she nodded and twisted them into darkness.

Quella’s flat was small but luxurious, exactly what Snape would have expected her to choose. It was located on the third floor of a renovated Victorian townhouse on a quiet side street not too far from the Ministry of Magic From the street Snape could see an ornate wrought iron balcony nestled among the white gingerbread so typical of the era. Attached to the black painted iron were newly painted window boxes. Most of them held cheerful petunias or marigolds as might be expected, but three floors up, the window boxes held a luminous growth of nightshade. “How apropos for her nature,” thought Snape. Quella motioned him up the steep twisting stairs to her floor, waved her wand, removing the wards and then pulled him inside, shutting the heavy oak door with a resounding thump. 

“Tea?” she asked as she placed her robes across the back of an antique dark red velvet sofa. Underneath the robes she revealed a well cut black jumper over opaque black leggings. “Cream, sugar, or both,” she continued. 

Severus wasn’t going to be deterred. “Answers,” he snarled impatiently. He sat himself down on a leather wingback chair and glared at Quella.

Quella simply nodded and entered the kitchen. As she walked by him, he was once again reminded of a lynx. Her shapely legs and tight ass distracted him from his purpose for a moment until he shook his head to clear such thoughts. I came here for answers, he reminded himself and pounded the wide arm of the chair to emphasize this to himself.

Despite his desire for information not food, Quella served tea on a silver tray and then pulled out a frying pan. “It’s a bit too early for breakfast but I’m not ready for sleep yet,” she explained as she began to whip up omelets with her wand.

“Answers!” Severus barked at her in annoyance.

But Quella simply turned to him with an exaggerated eye-roll. “And so you shall get them Professor Snape. Look at the eggs, what color are they?”

“Yellow, of course. They are eggs,” he snapped impatiently .

“Are you sure?” she replied with a smile forming on her lips. “Look at them again.”

He stared at the egg mixture. Before his eyes, it seemed to turn green, then blue, then red. Soon the color was flipping through all the hues of the rainbow. He looked up in suspicion. “What charm is this?” he demanded.

“It’s not a charm?” Quella said. “At least not a color changing charm like you are thinking. I can see you don’t believe me. Look out the window. The sun is just starting to rise. What is happening to the sun?

Severus moved over to the huge double windows behind the sofa. She had a remarkable view of London’s east side from this high up. The sun was just reaching above the horizon, little by little until almost half of it was visible but then it started to fade. The sun started sinking back down into skyline. Shadows crept over the land until blackness dominated all. It appeared as if the sun had set at 5 o’clock in the morning. Severus stared at the sky trying to make sense of the illogical.

“Come here,” Quella motioned him back over to the stove. She pushed the button to turn the stove on, but nothing happened. The stovetop did not appear red nor did any heat emanate from it. 

“Is your stove broken?” Severus sneered still trying to understand what happened with the sun. What trick she was playing?

Quella didn’t answer but merely grabbed his hand. “You see, Severus, I have an ability, an very unusual and very useful ability that the Dark Lord appreciates. Dumbledore would too if he knew about it but I refuse to be pulled between two masters. I want to be in control of my own destiny. I think you, of all people, understand where I’m coming from.” Severus gave her a sharp nod, but continued to wait for the explanation.

She placed his hand directly on the black burner. “How does it feel to touch the hot stove, Severus?”

“It isn’t hot, Quella, as you damn well know. Your stove it broken,” he snapped.

“Actually, my stove works quite fine, Severus,” she explained. 

Severus stared at her for a moment thinking about everything that happened in the Ministry, at the Wicked Wand, with the sun, the eggs and his hand on the stove. 

“You are in illusionist.” The final piece of the puzzle slid into place.

“Very good, Severus. Everything you see, I can change.” She waved her hand and the room brightened up immediately. The sun now fully risen and shining through the window. 

“Everything you smell and hear, I can change.” Suddenly soft music filled the room. It’s source unknown.

“And everything you feel, I can change.” She waved her hand again and Severus could feel it--the searing heat pulse through his skin as he, instinctively, snatched his hand away from a bright red stove. His hand was blackened and blistering from being on the stove for several seconds.

“I’m powerful.” She waved her wand healing his hand instantly. “I’m dangerous.. . . and I play by my own rules and for my own reasons.”

 

________________________________________________

Breakfast was a quiet affair as Severus contemplated everything he had learned. He stabbed at his omlet a bit, his mind more on illusions than food. Finally, he set his fork down. “Illusionists are part of magical myth. There has never been a documented case of one.”

Quella sighed. “Yet, here I am. While there is no documented case by the Ministry of Magic. There are legends of old. These stories get their start from somewhere. Illusionists are born not made, similar to Metamorphmagi but much rarer.”

“So, you can show illusions through all five of the senses?” Severus questioned.

“Yes,” Quella confirmed as she stabbed a piece of fruit, “but the more senses at once or the stronger the sense has to be, the more challenging it is. When you walked around the card table at the Wicked Wand, I was only giving MacNair’s neighbor, who was looking at MacNair’s cards, the illusion of the Double Wand card in his hand, hence you saw the real card: a Dragon. When he laid the cards down, I expanded the illusion so everyone in the room saw the false card.”

Severus was quite for a moment more. “Getting us out of the Ministry was strenuous wasn’t it. I saw the sheen of sweat on your skin.”

Quella rolled her eyes as she swallowed her food. “Let’s see, recreate a moving illusion for a large group of rather magically strong people themselves, including visual, auditory and tactile since aurors could bump into us all while shifting it to cover up whatever revealing spells they were blanketing the rooms with. What do you think?”

“Okay, okay,” Severus grinned a big despite himself. 

“May I ask you a question?” Quella inquired as she refilled their tea cups. “Do you like Albus Dumbledore?”

Severus was quiet for a moment before responding. “I respect the man,” 

“Indeed,” Quella agreed, “but that isn’t what I asked. People can earn another’s respect without being liked. Many Death Eaters respect the Dark Lord but you would be hard pressed to find those among the group that actually likes the man. . . except maybe Bella.” She picked up her teacup, a rather knowing smile upon her lips. 

Severus sighed. “You are playing a dangerous game here, Quella. We both have the same job, a job in which loyalties are questioned and tested every second of everyday. Do I dare ask you the same question?”

“Hmmmm, you may,” she nodded, “but you probably won’t like my answer. I don’t like either one of them because I think they are very much alike.”

Severus choked on his tea. He started coughing so much that Quella raised her wand to do an apeno spell but he recovered. “Alike? Please elaborate.”

Quella kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes as she studied them for a moment. “I have a list of characteristics. Tell me when you disagree. First, they are both very powerful wizards, probably the two most powerful in the last hundred years or so although from what I hear, you and Grindelwald would come in third and fourth respectively.”

She glanced up for his approval but he simply crossed his arms and waited. He didn’t necessarily agree with her 3rd and 4th place winners but agreed on the others and that was the important part right now.

“Second,” she continued, “both desire to control the Wizarding World.”

“Absolutely not!” Snape objected. “The Dark Lord, yes, but Dumbledore has never show any inclination for such. He has turned down being Ministry of Magic at least three times.”

Quella arched an eyebrow a bit, “I wonder how well you actually know your hero.”

“I never said he was my hero,” he argued, “only that he doesn’t intend to use his power to control others.”

“Oh, please!” Quella snorted placing both hands on the table and learning in. “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is an absolute control freak. They both also prefer to control from the shadows. Before their falling out, how many letters a week did Fudge write to Dumbledore, seeking advice, trying to maintain his illusion of leadership. He always relied on the headmaster’s advice, never questioned it. Fudge is an easy man to control. And don’t tell me Dumbledore’s sagacity was merely for the betterment of the ministry? Why is Fudge so paranoid now? Because he knows that Dumbledore no longer supports him. Despite the Ministry’s current position, Dumbledore has always made sure that its structure is a house of cards. It hasn’t fallen because Dumbledore hasn’t pulled the correct cards outs. If the Dark Lord takes over, he will be the same. He won’t declare himself Minister of Magic. Instead, he’ll quietly rearrange those cards until the structure suits him.” 

By now, she had risen from her seat, her eyes blazing indignation. She stalked across the room and stared at the skyline. “Their goals are the same. The only difference is their methodology. The Dark Lord controls through pain and fear. Dumbledore controls through manipulation and persuasion. Which do you think is worse? At least with the Dark Lord, you know what you are getting. You understand the expectations and what happens in you don’t meet them. Dumbledore is more subtle like a wind shifting in and surrounding you. You don’t realize the warm breeze is a tornado until it’s too late and you have been sucked in”

Once again, Quella was turning his world upside down. She was taking his most basic assumptions and turning them inside out forcing him to evaluate everything he had believed. He knew Dumbledore had faults. He probably knew them more than most, but he still respected and trusted the man. Dumbledore had done so much for him, for the Wizarding World.

It was as if Quella knew what he was thinking. “Don’t get me wrong. I respect Dumbledore just as I respect the Dark Lord. As I said before, they are great and powerful wizards, but I don’t trust either one of them. All great men trod upon the weak masses to meet their goals. Great men believe the end justifies the means no matter the cost.” She paused for a moment and looked him directly in the eyes. “And no one would disagree that both Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord are great men.”

 

___________________________________________________

Two weeks later, Voldemort send another contingency in with the map. The purpose was to study the Hall of Prophecy and prophecy orb itself, trying to find a way to remove it. Quella warned Severus to be sure he wasn’t involved in the mission, so he laid low. The Death Eaters came back returning only with failure. “The map,” Quella explained to Severus, “is designed to help one leave the Department of Ministries, not to enter it. It only works as long as it is on the premises. Once removed, it turns solid, refusing to reveal where every true changing passageway is located. In essence, once removed, it’s worthless. 

“And you knew this,” Severus challenged her while sipping his mead. She met him at the Hogshead for a late nightcap and to revel the Rookwood’s utter failure. 

“Yes,” she admitted to him. “I actually work in the Department of Mysteries. I’m only a mere secretary so I don’t have access to most of it, but a good secretary knows her boss’s secrets.”

“Dumbledore knew. . .” Severus mused.

Quella shrugged, “I’ve never talked to him about it, but judging by his lack of concern that night, I would wager yes.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Severus asked more to himself than her but she answered anyways.

“Why does Dumbledore keep most of the secrets that he does? You know my belief. He’s the master of-”

“Manipulation,” Severus finished bitterly. 

Quella just raised in glass in salute and took another sip. “Absolutely. And just so no one is disappointed with the expected outcome, the Dark Lord is still the Master of Pain and Fear--a well known fact that I am betting Rookwood is being reassociated with as we speak.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Severus challenged her.

Quella shrugged. “A better question to ask me is why didn’t I tell the Dark Lord this before he had his followers start this asinine quest. . . . Of course, in some ways the Dark Lord is like a teenager. You can’t tell him anything he thinks he already knows everything about. I guess he’ll just have to find another way to acquire the object of his desire.”


	6. The Playground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although he knew it was an illusion, Severus still reached out for the swing that creaked in the breeze. It was the old park near his childhood home. It was the exact swing he saw Lily leap off of so lightly she was almost floating. He reached down and plucked a flower. It smelled just like the ones Lily used to hold in the palm of her hand as its petals opened and closed.

Easter holidays have had come and gone resulting in the return of the student hords. Severus watched the young witches and wizards eagerly clambering towards the school’s entrance.. “Dunderheads! They are back and as usual they are everywhere”, Severus snarled to himself. He rubbed his temples. The students had returned and so had his pounding headache.The closer their noise came the more the headache grew. The first week back was as exactly as he had grown to expect. Two cauldrons had exploded but at least neither had resulted in student trips to the infirmary. As much as some people may dislike Snape, they had to admit that he kept a close eyes on his students’ safety. The Board of Governors was very happy with the statistics of potion accidents compared to his predecessor, Slughorn’s reign. The end of the week coincided with a cacophonic surprising event---one that might well go down in the Hogwarts History book. The Weasley twins’  
created a portable swamp and then made their historic flight from the Great Hall, leaving behind a thoroughly befuddled Umbridge.

Severus honestly found the entire incident amusing and beneficial to his own mood. Afterall watching the Head Inquisitor deal with the Weasleys’ marshy magic and having two less students in his classes was indeed cause for a celebration of sorts so after school hours he headed to the Wicked Wand. 

At least that was the reason the spy told himself he was there as he nursed his firewhiskey. He really didn’t have an excuse for being there any of the previous three nights. So it was great to have a reason to be there sipping his second drink.

He hadn’t seen Quelia in almost two months, not since she invited him to Hogshead to celebrate Rookwood’s Ministry fiasco. He had sent her several owls, but no reply had been forthcoming, so Severus stopped writing. He was not a man to beg. Instead he sat at this bar for the last few evenings hoping that she would appear.

He was into his third whiskey when the door slammed open creating a welcome albeit brief breeze from the alleyway. Suddenly there she was, hair flowing like a red river, dressed in purple so deep it was almost black. The suit was tight fitting and appeared more of a muggle design than wizard, but given the number of eyes that now observed her curves, he doubted the crowd would complain. 

She surveyed the narrow room and met his eyes briefly but gave no sign of recognition. Snape was about to slip off his seat to approach when a man entered behind her and slung his arm around her shoulders--Avery. He dragged her to the back of the room. As they passed Severus, Avery paused briefly to give Quella a long, lingering kiss and then continued past the potion master sending him a look of triumph. Avery, obviously, hadn’t forgotten about Quella and Severus’s rather intense New Years Eve dance. Severus simply returned the smile, remembering that salsa and thinking of their forbidden kiss in the alleyway after the ministry.

Avery settled into a card game with his good luck charm on his lap. Round after round he played, winning quite well but not enough to become suspicious. Quella often pointed out suggestions, whispering in his ear and teasing his neck with her purple nails. Severus secretly observed their dynamics with each other and the other players. When Quella made suggestions, Avery won. When she didn’t comment, his luck turned the other direction. “HMM” snickered Severus,” I wonder who is the actual card player in that duo.” 

Two hours into cards, Severus was becoming restless. What was wrong with him? He questioned himself. He was always the model of calmness and patience; he never had a visible emotional response to anything. It was one of the reasons he was such a successful spy. Yet while watching her slither all over Avery’s lap he felt annoyed and uncomfortably aroused like a teenager with raging hormones. What annoyed him most was Quelia hadn’t even bothered to look at him once. Severus felt his rejection begin to simmer into a sort of anger.

Avery snapped his fingers, demanding another mead from the bartender. The man nodded and waved his wand sending more mugs from the back room.They landed gently on the bar in front of the bartender who began using his want to fill the glass mugs with chilled mead until they developed foaming heads. Severus took one mug, stared at it a moment, and surreptitiously dropped a potion in it. Then he handed it back to the bartender with 15 galleons. “This one is for Avery,” Severus suggested. “Don’t worry. It won’t be connected to you.” The bartender stared at the mug for a moment, trying to weigh the risk. Then he shrugged his shoulder, pocketed the coins and carried the mead off to the card table. 

About two minutes later, magical intoxication begin to catch up with Avery He slurred his words more and more with each gulp of the liquid. By the time the next round had arrived he had slid into unconsciousness. His cards would have scattered across the floor if Quella hadn’t caught them. “Look at that!” Rabastan sneered. “It looks like Avery can’t hold his liquor or his cards tonight. Did you slip him something, Quells?”

Quella rolled her eyes. “Really Bas? I was going to suggest the same thing to you but it would hardly benefit you.”

“Why not?” Rabastan asked. “It doesn’t look like he’s moving anytime soon and with him out, we could. . . “ He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Quella gave him her most seductively smile. “I think that’s an excellent idea, Bas. We could. . .” she trailed off. The man’s jaw dropped and then a silly grin formed on his face, sure he was about to score until the woman finished her sentence, “continue the round. I’ll step in for Ave.” She shifted her sultry body, treating Avery’s unconscious form like a chair and spread the cards in her hand. “Whose turn is it boys?” Quella glanced around the table. The game continued until Quella won the round. 

One man left leaving only Dark Lord supporters at the table: Quella, Amycus Carrow, Rabastan and his brother, Rodolphus and the now snoring Avery. Severus couldn’t let this opportunity to pass up. “May I join?” he asked taking the recently vacated chair. 

The men all grunted in acceptance and Quella met his eyes. “Absolutely,” she declared, “but warning. I was going to suggest to up the ante. Playing money doesn’t really amuse me. It’s so passé.”

“What do you want to play for then?” asked Rodolphus breaking his usual taciturn demeanor. 

“Secrets.” Quella said. “I want to know your secrets. Whoever wins gets to ask the others about anything they want including the Dark Lord.” That woke up the crowd. They all tried to sit up a little straighter and focus a bit more but, being more into their cups than not, seemed to have trouble doing so. 

Severus had stopped drinking over an hour ago but even so he felt an alcoholic haze washover him like logical thinking and common sense were moving just out of his reach. He glanced sharply at Quella wondering if she was creating an illusion to get the men to agree. “I don’t care about your secrets,” he lied, “so, what will you offer to me if you lose.”

Quella’s green eyes met his black ones. “What do you want, Snape?” Her voice was low and husky, full of promise and also warning. All eyes turned towards Severus in anticipation of his demand. He swallowed to clear his throat and make sure his voice came out deep and male.

“A kiss.”

Quella smiled like a satisfied feline. “I should have known. Trying to make some inner fantasy of yours a reality, Snape.”

Severus didn’t answer. He just held up the cards and glanced down her body.. Quella accepted the challenge. “Deal him in.”

The game lasted long past closing time, but recognizing his customers, the bartender didn’t dare argue. Severus was impressed with how she played, both the cards and the questions. Her losses were enough to create belief and require three kisses to the Lestrange brothers. Her winnings were enough to gain her valuable information and were undoubtedly more of an illusion than actual wins.

Her questioning skills were nothing short of a masterful art with the goal of obtaining information from an oblivious source. At first she asked simple questions. “When did you receive the Dark Mark? What was your initiation into the Death Eaters like?” Questions any of Voldemort’s inner circle would consider common knowledge and even boast about in certain company. The shift to information gathering was subtle and her questions seemed benign but when one put them together, they created an intricate puzzle of Death Eater strengths, positionings and plans. 

“Last game?” Severus called as it was his turn to deal. A chorus of mutual grunts agreed as waved his wand to shuffle the deck. “May I suggest a new bet?” the potion master said. “The first two out in this round have to get Avery home.” He gestured toward Quella’s armchair. Her seat had started snoring about an hour before. She had simply given it a disgusted look and put a silencing charm on him. She glanced up at the dark-haired man and smiled. There was no doubt in his mind, she wasn’t going to fold anytime soon.

Severus ended up winning but only because he kept a secret notepad on his lap. He had charmed it to show what cards were in his hands really were. He played ,trusting the pad over the cards he was seeing. Quella frowned several times as he refused to use the strategies she thought he would use with his “seen hand.” Tired and sporting a headache, she finally laid down her cards in defeat. Severus collected the cards with a knowing grin on his face. He motioned to Rabastan and Amycus. “Get the snoring chair home,” he commanded. “I think I’ll cash in my winnings now.”

“Ummm, Snape, I don’t think this is a good idea. Avery doesn’t like guys messing with his woman,” Rabastan tried to honor his fallen friend. 

But Severus just snorted, “That didn’t stop you from kissing her twice. I’m just partaking in my agreed upon award.”

“I know. I know.” the younger Lestrange brother agreed, “but Avery is particularly vehement against you. He seems to think. . . “

“To think what?” Severus demanded his eyes turning to black ice on the other Death Eater.

“Well, let’s admit it, Snape. You aren’t exactly in favor with the Dark Lord at the moment and Avery thinks you have the hots for his girl.” Rodolphus shot back.

Severus hexed both of them, sending them gripping their faces and howling in pain. Then he stood up abruptly. “Don’t worry, gentlemen. I’ll see the lovely lady home. I already know where she lives.” Quella shot him a loathing glare. Within moments, she was out the door ignoring both her passed out boyfriend and her undesired escort. 

Once outside, she whirled around on him. “Don’t bother seeing me home. I can take care of myself,” she seethed.

Although surprised by her venomous tone, he simply arched an eyebrow and grabbed her arm. His voice was low and silky and was laced with danger as much as hers was of anger. “Of that I have no doubt, but I made a promise to escort a lady home and I keep my promises.” He squeezed her arm and guided her towards their destination with a slight twist.

Her anger had risen to a crescendo by the time their reached her flat door. At this point, Severus wasn’t expecting to be invited in, so he pushed on the door a bit after she had undone the wards and motioned her inside. The invitation was obvious. Their discussion wasn’t over.

She cast a silencing charm around the room but didn’t turn around. Her posture was rigid and her tone lethal. “I don’t wants your help, Severus. I don’t want an escort home. I don’t want you playing cards to keep an eye on me and I certainly don’t want you hanging out at the Wicked Wand for four days in a row hoping that I would show up!”

Severus froze for a second, surprised she knew that last bit of information. “Actually that was my reason for the first three nights. I came to the dive for another reason this evening.” Severus voice was smooth and calm. He had a voice that could convince a goblin to hand over his galleons. 

“Which is?” she asked her shoulders relaxing slightly as she faced him.

“A personal celebration,” he answered mysteriously.

Quella nodded and changed topics. “How did you win that last round of cards? How did you cheat?”

“Actually, I didn’t cheat. I was just aware that you were cheating and dealt with it accordingly,” he responded. He moved closer to her and placed his hands upon her shoulders.

Quella grinned despite herself. “I don’t suppose you are going to tell me how.”

“It depends. Am I getting that good night kiss that I won?” His smile was now wicked and his eyes gleamed with desire.

Quella chewed on her lip, glancing at him an almost indecisive look on her face but shook her head. “That, Severus, is a bad idea on so many levels.” She removed his hands from her shoulders, turned her back on him and stalked into the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t be with him.” The sentence formed on his lips before he realized it and he immediately cursed himself. He was Severus Snape. He never showed emotion. He never showed weakness and he certainly never became jealous because of a woman. 

Quella’s green eyes flashed. Severus knew her well enough to recognize that ominous sign. He was about to get a tongue-lashing from a beautiful but irate woman. What was it about redheads and tempers?

“That’s not really any of your business.” Quella’s voice rose. Her skin color seemed to deepen and her hair get redder and redder. It began to undulate almost like a dancing candle flame. “You don’t get to make those decisions.” Her voice rose to a crescendo.

“Quella?” Severus asked uncertainty. “Your hair?”

Suddenly her hair burst into flame. Almost on instinct, Severus raised his wand to put out the fire, but it spread instantaneously down her skin, to the antique sofa and across the floor. “Who I am with; why I’m with him is my business.” Her voice seemed to echo until it filled the entire room as her skin darkened to a deathly black and her eyes glowed like smoldering green embers.

“It’s just an illusion. It’s just an illusion,” Severus muttered to himself even as he stepped backward. 

“Just an illusion?” Quella’s deaden lips split into an evil grin. “You may know my secret, but you can’t beat it. Even now you can feel the scorch Severus. Can’t you, Severus?”

Severus stared at her in shock. The heat was radiating off her body, off the floor, off his own clothes. His skin felt like it was melting from his body. It was like his hand on the stove only a thousand times worse. He shifted into occlumency like he did during the Dark Lord’s torturing. It helped deaden his senses but the pain was still stabbing and searing with the intensity of a white hot poker.

“Do you know what fire does, Severus? It burns. It maligns and it consumes oxygen.” Suddenly, it was like all the air had left his lungs. He dropped to the floor, grabbing his throat. He began to breathe in desperate hollow gasps. This was a new sensation and no amount of mental walls seemed to decrease the panic creeping into his being.

“Quella, please,” Severus begged from his knees. The illusionist paused and stared at him. The “please” threw her. It made her pause. The fires seemed to die down. Her skin returned to normal. Severus inhaled deeply feeling like he hadn’t breathed in days. 

As quickly as the illusion escalated, it disappeared. Quella no longer looked like a fire devil but a horrified little girl. Pain and remorse filled her eyes. She collapsed to the floor and grabbed his hands. “Oh, Severus. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean. . . . I just wanted you to under. . . .” She dropped her head in shame. “I have a bit of a temper. It sometimes gets away from me.”

“I noticed that about you,” he replied dryly pulling away from her, straightening his robes, and standing up so he could have the advantage of towering over her.

Quella pulled her legs in and wrapped her arms around her knees. She began rocking back and forth. “My first illusions started when my magic first appeared. At first they were small. Beverly would swear I put a hole in her cardigan only to discover it was never there. Alicia thought she lost her favorite stuffed animal when it was on her bed the entire time.”

Severus knelt back down and reached out. His felt his anger and, although he loathed to admit it, fear evaporating. “Beverly? Alicia? Sisters of yours?” 

He tried to pull her hands away from her body but she grasped her legs firmly and rocked even more. “You could call them that. They were my best friends. We were. . . we lived at an orphanage. My parents. . . well, I was told that I was better off without them.” Severus nodded his understanding. How many times had he thought he and his mother would have been better without Tobias? 

“The illusions quickly escalated.” Quella continued almost trance-like. “Once when Alicia angered me, she thought her hair had turned into snakes. They were writhing all over her shoulders and down her back. I had just read a book on Greek Mythology.” 

He smiled in spite of himself. “Did anyone turn to stone?”

Quella bit her lip and shook her head. “No and even if they had, it would have been only an illusion. I can usually control it and am usually quite good as you’ve seen but when I get super emotional. . . . it gets harder. Alcohol doesn’t help and I drank too much tonight.”

“Why?” Severus asked. His voice was tender but forceful.

“Why did I get so emotional tonight or why did I drink so much?” she asked as she stopped rocking and sat cross legged in front of him. 

“Both. Why did you allow yourself to lose control tonight?” 

“Because of you.” Quella’s voice was clear. Her eyes honest. Despite all of her manipulations and illusions, he had no doubt this was the truth. “I’m not sure if it was wise or foolish, but I let you in. You got too close. Closer than anyone has in a long time.”

“You didn’t answer my owls,” Severus commented. 

She nodded. “When we danced and then kissed. . . . I knew I needed to keep it professional. I thought space would be a good idea.” She briefly cupped his face with her hand but then let them fall back into her lap. “And then tonight, you wouldn’t leave. You were at the bar, then the table, betting a kiss, insisting you’d apparate me home, coming closer and closer. I found myself losing control. I needed to make you leave, to reject me. But you wouldn’t. We were locked into some kind of physical magnetism. I knew I must end it”

“Because of Avery?” he pressed her but Quella just snorted. 

“Avery is a means to an end. The man is a wagging tongue. If the Dark Lord knew half the stuff that Avery boasts about or confides in me. . . . anyway, between him and those Death Eaters he plays cards with, I have been well informed.”

“Information that you then give to Dumbledore,” Severus supplies.

“When it fits.” she admitted. “Tonight was quite a coup de gras. I’m assuming you can fill in the blanks and report back.” She untangled her legs and began to rise but Severus beat her to it offering his hand to pull her up. 

Once standing, he pulled her a bit closer and leaned down. He still had her hands clasped in his own and his breath tickled her ear. “What do we do now?”

Quella sucked in quickly, her heart hammering. “Nothing,” she replied breathlessly.

“Nothing?” His eyes questioned her even as he ran his fingers through her waterfall of hair. For a brief moment she tilted her face up to his, seemingly ready to receive his passion. Then she shook her head and lowered her chin.

“Yes, nothing,” she said more resolutely and pulling back slightly. “My position is good. I’m secure within the Death Eaters. Because you are at school, you don’t always see and hear as much. I can fill in the blanks and the Dark Lord has only recently learned of my unusual abilities. He’s starting to explore the possibilities with me in battle.”

Severus eyes immediately became concerned. “Be careful, Quella. Someday he’ll asked you to go further than you are willing. He’ll demand something that you aren’t willing to do and he won’t ask twice.”

“Oh, believe, me. I already have a fair idea,” Quella said dryly. The experience in her eyes suggested that she wasn’t exaggerating. “Severus, I need space. I can’t have this attachment to you and still be able to do my job effectively. I need to let you go.”

He nodded in understanding but cupped her face in his hands using his thumbs to massage her cheekbones. She closed her eyes, gave in to the sensation for a few moments and then quickly pulled back to reality. “I’m sorry. I can’t even give you the kiss you won in the card game. It’s too dangerous to me, but I will give you something else to remember me by. Give me a memory. A place you love. A place of peace.”

Severus considered for a moment and then opened his eyes. He could feel her legilimens, tentatively nudging in, respectfully stopping at the one memory he was allowing access to. He stood still for several minutes while she examined every detail of it. “Now,” she whispered, “Look around.”

Although he knew it was an illusion, Severus still reached out for the swing that creaked in the breeze. It was the old park near his childhood home. It was the exact swing he saw Lily leap off of so lightly she was almost floating. He reached down and plucked a flower. It smelled just like the ones Lily used to hold in the palm of her hand as its petals opened and closed. 

“What’s back there?” Quella was standing with him in the park. She pointed to a copse of trees behind the slide. Your memories were particularly strong about that spot.” He didn’t say a word but walked over to their little hiding place. He stepped between the branches and immediately a sense of peace washed over him. It smelled of pine and fresh rain, lilacs and pinecones. There were the two stools that he made of wood for them to sit on. He traced his finger along her initials LE that he had carved into hers. Along the branches was Lily’s attempt at the world’s longest daisy chain. It stretched from branch to branch like the garland on a Christmas Tree. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat inside his childhood hideout, but the illusion never wavered. When he finally exited out, Quella was waiting by the swing. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That was the best gift I’ve received in a long time.” 

“You are quite welcome. I’m glad I could give it to you,” she whispered back. Then she waved her hand and the illusion was gone. She opened the door of her flat, but paused. “Severus, I don’t know when I’ll see you again and under what circumstances, but I just wanted to say thank you and I’m sorry things couldn’t be different between us. I wish they could.” She gave his arm a light squeeze, stepped back inside the flat and closed the door.


	7. The Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only fools think allegiance is black and white for they are the ones who accept blindly. Quella was no fool.
> 
> Warning: very violent chapter

Anti-litigation spell. Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling

The distant clock in an upper hall at Hogwart’s sounded off four times.” Four o’clock in the morning” thought Severus. “This seems to bet the only time during this damnable heatwave that the temperature is bearable and even almost pleasant. Still,” Severus mused “it’s not a time I wish to be awaken especially since I only closed my eyes two hours prior.” He rubbed his left forearm. “Not that the Dark Lord cares. He is up and scheming so should all his loyal serfs be.” Bitterly he allowed himself to be pulled into apparition. Upon his arrival Snape shook himself to be sure he was totally awake, glanced briefly at the ornate house to confirm his new location, and resolutely marched up the long gravel pathway to the mansion’s front door. Lestrange Manor was once considered one of the most majestic houses in magical England. Some in the magical world still considered it to be so. Severus, however, viewed it as more dismal than regal. The dark brick structure sat upon a steep hill surrounded by a tall hedge of English boxwood. Despite the genteel gloom emanating from the structure, it still managed to look down its pureblood path at the village nestled in the valley below. Built hundreds of years ago, Lestrange Manor’s windows were set in deep recesses honoring darkness and candlelight over the gentle glow of sunlight. The wind whipped through the gnarled trees that had dared to brave rooting on the hill adding even more to the entire manor”s overall gloomy appearance--or perhaps all of this was due more to the current red-eyed resident.’s deadly vistage.

 

Either way, Severus was looking forward to this current Death Eater summons even less than he did giving Occlumency lessons to Harry Potter. It had already been a horrible few weeks and he was sure this meeting would soon make it even worse. 

He cursed himself, the people around him and the situations he had recently found himself in. He wasn’t sure who was more foolish: Dumbledore for putting on that malevolent ring, Narcissa for her motherly hysteria over Draco, or himself for giving in and sacrificing himself to appease both of their own moral consciousnesses. 

He strode into the dark and dank entranceway. A portrait of one of the Corvus Lestranges silently pointed down the right hallway toward a faint glow. Snape nodded his thanks, put on his mask and turned toward the ballroom. When he reached the massive room, most of the others had already congregated. Severus shifted his mask slightly and took his place in the circle, a circle which contained several gaps since the fiasco at the Ministry two months ago including’ dearest’ Avery. A fact which didn’t bother Severus in the least. 

An eerie glow filled each of the room’s three stone fireplaces casting elongated shadows around the dim room, but the focal point was the center point of the Death Eaters’ Circle. A dozen glowing skulls rotated above creating a spotlight in the middle. In the center of the skulls was a horrified man down on his his knees; his hands were bound behind him. Severus didn’t know him personally, but recognized the speciality Ministry robes he wore--an Unspeakable. Standing above him was Quella, her wand trained on the back on of the man’s head. Her expression was grim but determined. Severus was right. The week had just gotten a lot worse.

_____________________________

“Welcome, my fellow Death Eaters.” Lord Voldemort’s voice echoed through the cavernous room. He stood next to Quella with his arms wide as if announcing a Quidditch Game or the International Broom Races. “We have an initiation today and a rather unusual one. First, may I introduce Quella Nimenski. She is being tested today to become only the second female Death Eater in history. Second, of course, after our dear Bella.” The Dark Lord gestured over to the dark haired beauty who, even in her mask, looked less than thrilled about having to share her title. “The second unusual part of this initiation is how it will be completed. If I’m not mistaken, Quella has quite a show ready for us. Don’t you dear?” He walked around her. His finger trailing down her jaw and across her shoulder.

Quella’s only movement was a slight twitch of her jaw. She continued to stare at the back of the prisoner’s head. Severus’s stomach tied into knots. He had seen many initiations. All of them were gruesome, but given Quella’s abilities, this one might be particularly memorable. Behind his mask, concern etched in his features. Could she do this? Did she want to do this? Was she doing this so she could continue to spy for Dumbledore or was this her own desire? Despite all their conversations, their intimate moments, Severus still wasn’t sure exactly where her allegiance lay. 

Only fools think allegiance is black and white for they are the ones who offer their loyalty blindly. Quella was no fool. 

Severus took a deep breath. Whether she maneuvered herself into this position or was here due to circumstances beyond her control, he had to believe she could handle it. At the moment, all he could do was take the role of a helpless observer. 

The Dark Lord finished his raving introduction, lathering his followers into a frenzy. At the rate they were going tonight, one death would not be enough to contain the crowd. “Let the test begin,” he announced and pointed toward the spectacle in the middle.

From the first time he had met Quella Severus had always admired the woman’s adaptability. She was able to quickly size up a situation and modify her entire demeanor to fit the current mileu As he told her once, “You can jump from one play to another almost midline and with no visible effort.” Severus watched as the theater changed and she went from the unsure but determined actress to the star of the stage. If Voldemort wanted entertainment, then she would win certainly an Olivier Award.

Quella’s eyes grew harsh. She pulled the man roughly up to his feet and unbound his hands. Then she stepped back giving him time to regain circulation in his wrists and turn around. “Wand!” she commanded and someone threw the man his wand. The crowd silenced into shock. What was she thinking? This wasn’t supposed to a test of one’s dueling skills but rather how cruel and sadistic one could be before the final kill.

She turned around slowly making eye contact with each mask. “I suggest you all keep your shields up. I will not be responsible for your maiming.” A few chuckled, but all raised their wands for a Protego. She finished her circle and faced the Unspeakable. “There are only two rules. No Avada Kedavra. I don’t want one getting through those shields and killing a member of the audience. That would make our Lord most put out and not be good for business. The second rule is no member of the audience may interfere. If you want to escape, you must get through me and me only. Is that understood?”

The man nodded and crouched into a dueling stance. Quella tapped her throat once to mimic Voldemort’s announcement style. “Then as Claudius Templesmith would say. Let the games begin--and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

She had barely finished her sentence when her opponent sent out two quick spells. The two spells, two slicing ones shot across the circle. Severus was impressed. This man was the gladiatorial entertainment for a crowd of Death Eaters yet he immediately took the offensive. Both spells flew right at Quella and hit her in the navel. Severus cringed as they made contact but stood his ground. He, like the others, stood in shock as the spells pass right through her and hit the Death Eater behind her.

“Ouch,” Maerna exclaimed lightly rubbing her abdomen. “Fuck! That hurt, you arse!” Then she turned behind her to examine the black cloaked man who had fallen to the spells. He was screaming in agony, hand to a lacerated arm and thigh. “Well, I told you to keep your shield up, you imbecile,” she hissed at him. “Someone get him out of here,” she announced and two masks near him moved him to the other side of the room before returning to the show. Everyone else just stood in shock including the Unspeakable. His mouth hung open, his wand limp at his side. Voldemort cackled with glee from the background.

Only Severus noted something odd. As Quella turned to face the situation behind her, her angle was off. She didn’t look like she was looking at the fallen man, but rather looking at the man two dark marks over. A smile played upon the potion master’s face. “Because she’s not standing anywhere near where everything thinks she is. She is actually about 8 feet to the left. Excellent strategy, Quella,” he thought. “Nice job. I don’t know who Claudius Templeton is but I would say the odds are definitely in your favor.”

Based on the angle of her illusion’s gaze, Severus estimated her actual spot and attempted to see her but to no avail. “Sorry,” Quella’s announcer voice echoed throughout the ballroom making it impossible to fix an exact location, “but it was a good attempt, very quick on your feet,” she taunted the man. Her illusion shifted slightly to the right. By now the man had recovered and was training his wand on the movements, a bit more wary of attacking. 

“I never heard exactly why you were picked for today’s celebration. Would you enlighten me or do you even know? I’m sure it’s because of your job at the Ministry. Are you paying the price for someone else’s blunder or have you personally angered the Dark Lord?” Her voice mocked him as they continued to circle each other. “Go ahead. Make your move. I’ll not attack first, I promise.”

“ Of course you won’t,” thought Severus wryly, “that would give away your position.”

Suddenly the man made his move, attempting more creative and complicated spells, trying desperately to bind her or hex her or do anything to her that would help his situation, but they all just seemed to pass through her. Quella’s illusion started a mock scream, moaning and thrashing with each spell until the duelist finally realized he was being ridiculed and ceased his attack. He was breathing heavy. His magical energy spent. “What then do you suggest?” he jeered as he doubled over trying to catch his breath.

Many of the Death Eater’s chuckled at his question, but the illusion’s eyes arched up. “Interesting strategy. Asking the opponent for advice. Since you are so courageous, I’ll giving you some for free. Your eyes can deceive you. Don’t trust them.” The man nodded seeming to internalize her words. He didn’t seem as worried about her invincibility as one would think. Perhaps it was his job. As an Unspeakable, Severus was sure he saw the impossible every day.

The man attacked just as quickly the third time, but instead of aiming where he thought Quella was he aimed in other directions, creating widespread spells that spread out in waves. Finally one actually hit an unknown shield and reflected back. The man targeted in that region with a rampage of magic. The first few hit her shield charm, but then she seemed to disappear again. 

The Unspeakable froze, searching again, but this time not with his eyes but with his ears. “What’s your name?” Quella’s voice echoed. He frowned but said nothing. “Oh come on, I’m trying to be polite. Besides, it’s giving you a few minutes to catch your breath.”

The man continued to frown but answered, “Felix.”

“Hhhmmm, muggleborn?” the disembodied voice asked.

“Yes,” he said tentatively. “Why did you call me muggleborn? Why not mudblood?”

“I told you. I was trying to be polite.” Her voice sounded strained like she was tired of playing this game. Faintly, oh so faintly, there was a noise, a squeak of a shoe to the man’s right. He seized upon the opportunity and sent a widespread hex in that direction.

“Shite!” echoed across the room. There was a flash as the illusion disappeared for a microsecond. Quella seemed to be appear on the other side of the circle for a moment and then back again. The man didn’t hesitate but hit that spot over and over. Quella’s shield held but he had her exact location. 

“I’m tired of playing this fucking game!” Quella’s voice resonated. Immediately, a chorus of screams rang out as everyone in the room dropped their wands, convinced that their wands had burned through their hands. Only Severus and Dark Lord managed to hold on to theirs.

The illusion was gone. The real Quella was standing there, gripping her bleeding arm where she had been clipped. The look on her face reminded Severus of the one time in her flat when he had infuriated her. He took a step back. The memory enough to make him break from the circle.

Quella’s hair began to whip around her like flames licking the edge of her robe. Her face was distorted and cruel. It seemed to twist and turn green as her eyes blazed a red to rival the master’s. “Playtime is over and it’s time for you to die. Now pick up your wand,” she commanded. The man glanced down and shook his head. His wand was gone. Instead a Runespoor lay where his wand had been. Six feet long, two of its heads were hissing at him while the middle one seemed to be lost in thought until it turned in his direction and spoke. “I said pick up your wand.” Tentatively, the man reached out. “My eyes are deceiving me. My eyes are deceiving me,” he whispered over and over trying to convince himself and most of those circled around him. He walked around the snake and picked it up by the tale trying to hold it as far away from himself as possible.

The Runespoor wiggled around until all six beady eyes were upon him. “Thank you,” three voices echoed. “You’ve made our job much easier.” The three heads reached out and attacked. The man screamed as his arms and his face were pierced. The snake dropped to the floor and seemed to disappear into the woodwork leaving his wand where it had always been. 

The three fang bites turned green and pucid before their eyes. The skin around them swelled and throbbed and the Death Eaters watchers in horror as tiny bugs began to crawl out of the fang holes. They must have been biting or stinging him or maybe it was just the thought, but the Unspeakable lost any sense of reality. His eyes were dilated and wild. His hands were shaking and raw as he tried to scratch off his own skin. His shrills reverberated through the room sending chills down Severus’s spine. 

A sense of revulsion welled up inside of Severus and when he looked to Quella, even she seemed to be having second thoughts about her illusion. “I believe it’s time for the finale, Quella,” Lord Voldemort proclaimed the end of the entertainment. Quella nodded. She removed all the illusions so it was just her and the man standing face to face. Suddenly his countenance became calm and serene as if he was the one with a secret not Quella. She raised her wand to finish the job but he beat her to it. A silver knife, from a hidden pocket in his robes, was clutched in his fist. Not breaking her gaze, he reached up and slit his own throat.

_____________________________

Silence followed as Quella lowered her wand. Within seconds, the man had lost consciousness and death took him moments later. No one said a word. All of them were staring at Quella, some of them in respect, some in glee and even a few in horror. A solitary clapping broke the trance. “Congratulations, Quella. I don’t think I’ve been that entertained since the Longbottoms,” Bellatrix cackled with glee. “You are a right bitch, aren’t you.”

Quella turned to face the psychotic witch. “Thank you, Bella. Coming from you. I’m sure that is supposed to be a compliment.”

Voldemort entered the circle and grabbed her left arm. He chanted some words that Quella didn’t understand nor did she try. Suddenly her forearm was burning in agony and for a moment, she was sure it was payment for the illusion she had just created. Only Voldemort’s strength held her up. Then it was over and she dropped to the floor. A robe and mask were dropped to her side and the circle was breaking up. Some of the Death Eaters nodded their welcome to her but no one approached. Even among their group, she now had a reputation for ruthlessness.

Severus approached when the rest had scattered. “Quella” he whispered.

Quella looked up. She appeared 20 years older than before, her skin sallow and shriveled. She cradled her left arm, tears flowed down her cheeks. “Please, don’t leave me,” she begged. Then she turned and retched all over the floor so the remains of her stomach mixed with her victim’s blood. 

He stared at her in disbelief. He wanted to yell, to rant, to declare her the biggest fool in the wizarding word, but his lips wouldn’t form the words. Finally, he was able to utter a thought.. “Why?” he croaked. “Why did you take the mark? How could you do that? Don’t you understand the consequences? 

Her haunted eyes pierced his soul. She understood all too well. “I did it for you,” she whispered. Then she reached out to him and slipped into unconsciousness.


	8. The Dark Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you can excuse me if I’m a bit bothered that you have enslaved your own soul,” he spit at her. “You’ve allowed yourself to be branded. It’s a life of servitude that one only escapes by death.”
> 
> “I know,” Quella replied calmly, “but I think you are worth it.”

“Oh, my fucking head!” Quella squinted in the bright sunlight and then quickly shut her eyes. She placed her hands over her ears and groaned as she rolled to the side dry-heaving over the edge of the bed. “Where the hell am I?” she growled. She considered trying to open her eyes again but opted to stay safely behind eyelids.

Footsteps echoed across the wooden floor and sound of drapes moving across a window gave an invitation for Quella to try one more time. Now bathed in semi-darkness, she made out the outline of a tall man in billowing robes. “Snape?” she asked hesitantly.

“The quality of your language has declined dramatically in the last 24 hours. I always envisioned you as more of a lady,” he observed as he pointed his wand toward an empty glass, filling it with cold water.

“I apologize for my choice of words,” Quella said sarcastically, “but in my defense, it was 24 hours of hell.” She accepted his help to sit up and sipped the water.”

“Indeed,” he agreed.

“Where am I?” she asked taking in her surroundings for the first time. She was in a bedroom, as plain as hers was elegant. With sloped ceilings, flaking paint and warped floorboards, the entire room exemplified decrepit and substandard living.

“My house,” Severus’s glare challenged her to comment. “You looked like you needed help after your little . . . entertainment. I couldn’t apparate through your wards and didn’t think dragging your comatose body up two flights of stairs to your flat was the best idea, so I brought you here.”

“Thank you,” Quella said honestly. “I doubt Bella would have appreciated me camping out on her ballroom floor.”

Severus smirked a bit, “True, I can’t see Bella being a very gracious hostess.” He turned back to the tea he was making.

“She didn’t seem happy that I would be sharing her title for Woman Death Eater,” Quella grinned despite the pain.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Actually, you are the third woman Death Eater. The Dark Lord seemed to have forgotten about Alecto Carrow, but honestly I don’t think any man would consider her a woman.” Quella snorted as Severus offered her something to eat. 

She considered her stomach for a moment. “Perhaps just some of that tea.” 

She started to pull back the covers but he held his hand up. “Stay, I’ll bring it up to you.” With a swish of his robes, he was gone so Quella leaned back on the headboard and closed her eyes. 

The tinkling of china woke her from her light slumber as he brought up a tea tray and plate of dry toast. “Just milk, please,” she replied to his pause in serving. 

They sipped their beverages in silence until at last Severus could stand it no longer. “Why, Quella? You said you took the dark mark for me. Explain.” His tone was accusatory for he refused to take the blame for her idiotic decisions. 

Quella sighed and set down her cup. She rubbed her hands on her temple willing the headache to disappear but to no avail. “Severus, do you understand how precarious your position is with the Dark Lord? I’m sure you have a good idea. You are a very observant and highly intelligent man, but I’ve heard whispers that you might be in more danger that you realize. The Dark Lord questioned you from the moment he was resurrected, staying warm and comfortable at Hogwarts for ten years, never searching for him, thwarting his efforts to secure the Philosopher’s Stone.” Severus sharp gaze honed in on her. How did she know all this? But she continued without pause. “Plus you are still there. Oh, I know he commanded you to keep your post teaching, but how much does he really trust a man who is practically in bed with his arch-enemy?”

“Are you questioning my allegiance to the Dark Lord or my sexual orientation,” Severus sneered, but Quella just rolled her eyes. 

“The point is, whether valid or not, the Dark Lord doesn’t trust you because you are very close to Dumbledore and you’ve given him little reason to trust you since his return.”

“So, you are questioning my ability to spy for Dumbledore,” he said quietly. 

Perhaps she recognized the danger in his tone for she reached forward and grasped his hand. “No, I’m saying that the Dark Lord is secretive and doesn’t tell anyone everything. Plus, in your position, it’s hard to get additional information from your fellow Death Eaters, so there was lots of gaps in your knowledge. The bits you did relay to Dumbledore, did he ever consider that the Dark Lord might have been able to trace that information back? Only these five people knew about the raid on Kent before it happened. Only four of those knew about New Castle. It wouldn’t have been that hard to narrow it down and you, as a double spy, would have been the first suspect.”

“So you, like we established months ago, were able to discover additional facts to keep me as a source of information undisclosed,” Severus scorned. “Should I be thanking you or something?”

“I did,” she admitted, “until Avery got himself an introduction to Azkaban after the Department of Mysteries fiasco. Then my sources dried up. No more drunken bragging, no more card games. I couldn’t just show up without him. It looked too suspicious.” She looked up into his onyx eyes beseeching him to understand, to accept her decision. “So, I went deeper. The Dark Lord already had suspicions of my abilities. Once he realized for certain, it wasn’t hard to work myself into his circle. . . . and I wouldn’t expect any thanks, especially coming from you.”

Severus was quiet for a moment, contemplating her actions, her reasons. When he looked up his eyes were hard as steel. “You told me once that you refused to be pulled between two masters, that you made your own decisions. Yet here you are, the same as me being practically torn into between the light and the dark.”

Quella shook her head. “It was my choice.” she said simply. “I came to Dumbledore with the proposition of being marked. Besides I don’t believe in dark and light magic.“

That gave Severus pause. “Interesting beliefs.”

“Why are you so surprised?” Quella asked. “I don’t believe either Dumbledore and the Dark Lord are diametrically opposites. As you know, I believe they are more alike than different. It’s always about their intentions and their intentions aren’t all that dissimilar.

“Magic is the same way. It’s the user’s intention with the spell that must be considered. The severing charm was invented by in the 15th century by a seamstress to make her job easier. No one ever claimed that cutting cloth was dark magic, but you apply it to skin. . . . As you can see it’s all about the purpose.”

“What about the Unforgivables?” Severus challenged her. 

 

“What about them?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Suppose you were in a burning building and a person was so frozen in fear that he wouldn’t move for you. Put him under imperio to get him to safety. Avada Kedavra is actually a humane way to kill. It’s quick and painless. Is it dark magic to help someone who is languishing in torment from torture or poisoning with no antidote?”

“And Cruciatus?” he asked.

Quella took a long sip of her tea and smiled. “Well, there you might have me. Give me time. I’ll come up with an altruistic way to use it, but you understand my point.”

She swept off her quilt and swung her feet around. Stretching like a cat, she touched the freezing floor with her bare toes. “Tell me Severus, what is the difference between a hero and an enemy?”

“Which side of the wand you are standing at?” he quipped without missing a beat. 

“Hmmm, very good.” Quella congratulated him. She slowly applied weight to her legs. They seemed able to hold her so she stood up and stretched her limbs in a graceful catlike motion.

“ In any war or disagreement there are always at least 2 sides. A man is always the hero in the first person, such as “our man is a hero.” It is only in the third person – “their man” – that he becomes an enemy.” Severus added.

“Why Severus, I knew you were an academic, but didn’t realize you were so introspective,” Quella teased as she brushed her fingertips across Snape’s lips, “and so apropo. So now tell me , who is your hero and who is your enemy: Dumbledore or the Dark Lord?”

Severus leaned his forehead on the wall, dropping his gaze to the floor his voice was so quiet that Quella barely heard him. “I’m not sure I really know. Sometimes it’s clear as a bell and other days. . . they both seem shrouded in the filth of immorality. Both of them have asked me, no demanded tasks of me, that I didn’t know I had the strength or character to complete.”

“Yet, you did. You are an amazingly strong wizard, Severus.Far stronger than you give yourself credit for being Who knows with a lot of determination and luck you might even be able to rival one of them.” Severus eyeballed her with a mixture of shock and unbelief. Quella stood up straight, bent her knees a bit to ensure stability and approached behind him. She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. 

“You say it’s all about the intent,” Severus reflected. “Do you mean their intent with their demands or mine with my actions? The Dark Lord has asked me to murder in his name numerous times, faceless, nameless muggles and blood traitors, but Dumbledore. . . Dumbledore has made a demand of me, a demand that I haven’t fulfilled yet and I don’t know if I can. The stakes may be too high.”

Quella put her hands on his shoulders and slowly turned him around. “So, then don’t, Severus. Be your own master. If Dumbledore’s petition gnaws at your conscious, then follow the Dark Lord’s ideals.”

Severus’s laugh was hollow and pained as he pushed her away. “This time it doesn’t matter. They both want the same thing--to tear my soul apart to gain themselves an advantage, so you can excuse me if I’m a bit bothered that you have enslaved your own soul,” he spit at her. “You’ve allowed yourself to be branded. It’s a life of servitude that one only escapes by death.”

“I know,” Quella replied calmly, “but I think you are worth it.”


	9. The Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have been named head of a mission.”
> 
> “I’d like to participate,” Severus volunteered.
> 
> “Are you sure?” Quella asked. “You don’t have the reputation of willingly soiling your hands.”
> 
> Severus leaned forward, his black eyes intensely on her. “For you, Quella. I’ll come because I’d like to see how you handle it.”
> 
> “You want to come to test me, understand my allegiances more,” She said shrewdly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is very violent.

August melted into September and the traditions of Hogwarts once again took center stage: Platform 9¾, Hogwarts Express, Opening Feast and the Sorting Hat. Severus met with Quella a few times over those first few months of school, but always in public, sometimes over a glass of butterbeer, usually something stronger.

Now Winter had definitely arrived., Severus stomped the excess snow off his boots as he entered the Hogshead five minutes late. He was annoyed with his lack of punctuality but it couldn’t be helped. Yet another meeting with Dumbledore to rehash what had not yet changed. No, Severus hadn’t convinced Draco to confide in him about his plans. Yes, the boy was still planning something and looked like hell, worse each day. Yes, Katie Bell was in still unconscious at Saint Mungo’s. Yes, Dumbledore still expected Severus to fulfill his duty of murder, probably by the end of the school year. Severus ground his teeth as he reviewed his thoughts about the meeting and all its redundancy. Dumbledore was continuing to play his game of manipulation chess, only this piece, called a Severus was becoming more and more upset about the expectations set by the old chess master and the fact he was still receiving little information from Dumbledore to guide him in his tasks..

Severus looked around the room. Quella was nowhere to be found. He slid onto a stool at the bar, nodded to Aberforth who grunted in reply. Any other bartender would have asked how he was or if he was waiting for someone, but not the goat herder. He slopped a mead down in front of Severus and put out his hand, palm up. Severus dropped his knut into the older man’s hand and and took a long draw from its contents. At least it was cold.

Finally, ten minutes later, Severus heard the light laughter of a certain woman coming down the stairs. Her arm was looped through Rabastan LaStrange’s. She seemed only to have eyes for him as she tilted her head in to absorb his witty conversation. Severus could feel his chest tighten as he watched Bas kiss her lightly on the cheek, his hand hovering on her lower back longer than necessary. Severus knew Quella. He was sure it was an act. At least he hoped it was an act. Not that he had any claim to her. Of that fact she had been abundantly clear on that night months ago. Avery was long gone, locked in Azkaban for the last six months, but little had happened between she and Severus except for lots of flirting and one night of delectable snogging. 

Severus wasn’t sure if his even wanting more was wise. Quella was extremely manipulative and difficult to read. His brain told him to steer clear of her but her curves continued to tease his loins. Around her he could sometimes forget he was a mere playing pieces to two dueling wizards. Around Quella Snape felt like he was wanted. 

When the witch saw Severus her face seemed to brighten even more. She gave Rabastan one more flirty smile and walked over to the bar.

“Rabastan Lastrange? I thought you had better taste than that?” Severus sneered as she approached.

She cocked her head to the side, pressing her lips together like she was trying to keep a grin off her face. “As compared to who? Avery or yourself?”

“I never had you,” Severus admitted. “Not that any man ever really has you, Quella. You are definitely your own woman.” He ran his finger around the edge of his mug and gave Quella a knowing look.

“Thank you,” she smiled and she motioned over to Aberforth for some wine. “And that conclusion is why you are one of my favorite people and the man most likely to have success finding himself in my bed.” She slipped her fingers across the bar and lightly played with Severus’s hand.

Severus choked on his the last of his mead and sputtered a bit. “Is that a proposition?”

“Not tonight.” Quells squashed any hopes his libido raised as she pulled back her hand and switched topics. “I heard that you had a slight change in jobs this year, I’m surprised you didn’t mention this over the summer when we were chatting.” 

Severus glared at her and cocked his head in disbelief. “Well, pardon me for forgetting to mention it, but I was more focused on keeping you alive and criticizing your new choice of skin ornamentation,” he snarled. 

“What? You don’t like it? She started to roll up her sleeve. Severus grabbed her wrist. “Are you mad, Quella? You can’t show that here!” The Hogshead certainly allowed for a more colorful clientele than the other pubs, but Aberforth was a rather nosey bartender who thrived on seeing things that weren’t meant for his eyes. 

Quella rolled her emerald eyes at him and snatched her arm back. It was only then Severus realized she had been rolling up her right sleeve not her left. Situated at the base of her wrist was the tattoo of a broken manacle, the chain wrapped around her wrist. “My left arm maybe the Dark Lord’s attempt at branding me but my right arm is to remind me of who my real master is,” she explained.

“You serve no master but yourself,” Severus murmured as he traced his thumb lightly along the tattooed chain. Her skin was smooth and warm like silk bed sheets after a night of love making. 

Quella grabbed his hand and traced her thumb along his wrist. “Who is your master?” she asked him but he ignored her inquiry. “Still don’t trust me?” she asked, a teasing smile on her lips. She playfully kissed her fingertips and then pressed them to his lips. “But then neither of us in is a position to trust anyone completely.”

Severus tensed a bit. “Honestly, I don’t trust myself most days,” he admitted. He signaled to Aberforth and switched his order to fire whiskey

Quella bit her lip and studied him. He wasn’t going to open up to her today. “How are classes? How’s the new subject?” she switched subjects on him. 

“Good,” Severus relaxed at the new question. “I always wanted to teacher Defense Against the Dark Arts. Despite my talents in potions, Defense is my favorite subject.”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts is your favorite. Is it the DEFENSE part or the DARK ARTS you crave ?” Quella asked her voice cascading with secret knowledge.

Severus threw back the shot of firewhiskey and thumped the glass back on the bar. “You can’t really understand one unless you understand the other. Besides, can you honestly see that Crackpot Dumbledore allowing Dark Arts to be taught at the school.”

“Valid point,” Quella mused, “about the man and what he allows at Hogwarts. He rules it with almost as iron a hand as Voldemort does his Death Eaters. ”

“Not feeling very respectful of the headmaster today are we?” Severus asked motioning Aberforth for another drink.

“Not really besides you started it,” Quella admitted, “and no more drinks for me. I have been named head of a mission. That’s what Bas and I were just going over. I need to be alert. I’ll probably be summoned soon to go over the plan .” she warned. 

“When?”

“Whenever the Dark Lord calls it, probably in the next three days. It’s minor. I doubt you’ll be called in,” Quella tried to wave away his involvement.

“I’d like to participate,” Severus volunteered.

“Are you sure?” Quella asked. “You don’t have the reputation of willingly soiling your hands.”

Severus leaned forward, his black eyes intensely on her. “For you, Quella. I’ll come because I’d like to see how you handle it.”

“You want to come to test me, understand my allegiances more,” She said shrewdly. 

“You talk like that’s a bad thing.” Severus tried ta bit of teasing to lighten the mood, but to his surprise, she just shrugged her shoulders and slid off the bar stool. 

“I’ve never lied to you about my allegiances, Severus. I’ll tell the Dark Lord you are in. We’ll see if we can do it Saturday, to accommodate your teaching schedule.” She raised her glass to a toast and clicked Severus’s glass. Then she placed her glass on the bar with catlike quietness and slipped from the inn.

 

____________________________

As promised, Severus’s left arm burned Saturday evening. Without hesitation, he threw down his quill and retrieved his mask and cloak. No one paid him any mind as he strolled across the castle grounds and apparated just beyond the borders. He reappeared in a forest clearing. Quella was standing in the midst of a small circle of five men, who were obviously focused on her directions. 

Quietly he joined the peripheral of the circle for he was late and had missed some orders. “Remember, stay away from that one house.” Quella’s voice was full of authority. Today her script was about war and she was commanding the troops. “The rest, you can do what you want with, but anyone who touches that building or the people who come from it will answer to me. You follow my directions immediately the first time, every time or the consequences will be severe. Do you understand?” The group of men nodded. They shuffled their feet as they exchanged glances. They saw her initiation. No one wanted to cross her. 

Quella met Severus’s eyes but before he could even guess her emotions, she touched her wand to her Dark Mark and he was pulled into that pinpoint of nothingness.

They appeared on the edge of a sleepy hollow, probably no more than a dozen buildings scattered along a dirt path. She nodded to the men once and they moved into place. Three each faced the door of a different house while the other two circled a two story house with a yellow door, obviously Quella’s target, setting anti-apparition charms around it. 

As the Death Eaters bombarded the doors of the decoy houses, she motioned Severus over. “A Department of Mysteries employee is in that building and the Dark Lord wants him. It took a lot of deductive reasoning and interrogation to figure out where his family was staying. The problem is they are still under the Fidelius Charm, so we’re going to convince him to come out. Are you joining me or enjoying the festivities with the other boys?” Quella’s grim face turned into a malevolent smile as she prepared for the revival. He had known this night would be horrendous but his stomach turned as he he watched her face light up with energy and excitement of the night. 

“With you,” he curtly replied. His goal tonight was to determine her true allegiances although the enraptured look on her face in the midst of the chaos and pain around her would be a clear indicator to many.. 

She simply nodded, turned back to the engulfing blaze, smiled, and waited patiently as flames engulfed the three neighboring houses around the Fidelius Charm cottage. Hysterical screams and peals of laughter could be heard from inside the burning buildings as the various Death Eaters tortured and maimed in celebration. Quella stood still as a statue waiting for someone to come charging out of the marked house, but no one emerged.

“I thought they would come help their neighbors,” she murmured to herself. Disappointment clearly played across her sensual face and rested in her eyes which had turned merciless.

“Perhaps, they flooed out,” Severus suggested and secretly hoped.

“Not possible” she said as she continued to scan the structure for signs of life. “We have someone on the inside at the Floo Network Authority. All fireplaces in this village are temporarily out of order.”

“You think of everything,” Severus forced a sneer into his voice to hide his disappointment. He watched the structure to the right collapse under the flames, a final cry of agony from within piercing the night sky as the roof collapsed into a fiery ball. 

“I try,” Quella admitted. “I can’t do anything about portkeys though, especially illegals ones, so they might have gotten away but my instincts tell me no. What do you think?”

Severus raised his wand toward the building. “Homenum Revelio,” he chanted. The wind whipped through the building like a snake, slithering through the rooms, circling about until it returned. “They are still in there,” he croaked, “Three of them.”

Quella sighed. “He has a wife and young son.” Just then the structure to the left of the house also gave up. Flaming wood snapped away from the whole and spun out landing on the roof of the yellowed-doored building. The roof sparked and began to blaze but still no motion appeared in the windows. 

Again she sighed. The mission wasn’t going as planned. “I’m going to have to smoke them out,” she lamented aloud. She contacted the rest of the team. “Fall back to my position. I need you at the target.” With seconds, she was surrounded by four other masks, awaiting orders, but she did not look pleased. “Where’s the fifth?” she demanded.

“Uhh, Gibbon was finishing up with a woman. He said he’s come when he was done, He seemed to be having a sporting good time” Amycus reported. He smirked. “

Quella’s eyes narrowed to slits. Her eyes flashed red and Carrow stepped back in haste. Her voice shook with disdain and authority.“What is with you men, always thinking with your cocks? I’ll deal with him later. The rest of your, surround this house and watch all exits. If someone tries to leave, stun them and bring them to me, but this is your only warning. Keep your distance from the structure.” 

The men nodded and spread out as Quella closed her eyes and extended her wand upwards. By now the flames had crossed half of the roof and were crawling down one side of the house nipping at two upstairs windows. Quella murmured a spell and the group watched in awe as the ordinary flames turned into fiendfyre. They spun madly like a whirlwind in a tight circle. The fire oscillated and twisted as it elongated into a fiery man. It lorded over the house peering down at them with a sinister smile. Horns grew from his head and a forked tailed whipped about, reaching an upstairs windows and smashing it. “Enter!” Quella’s voice boomed up at the evil fiendfyre figure. It bowed to her once and then jumped into the chimney. 

Almost immediately, the windows flared up with flickering red, orange, white and blue as the fiendfyre stretched like a rope out of the fireplace and across the room. Quella had taken three steps toward the door, when Severus grabbed her arm. “I can’t protect you in there, Severus. I can’t show you where the dangers really are,” she said as she attempted to pull away but his hand held fast.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Quella,” he sneered. “If you are going in there then I am too.” Quella nodded and he released his grip following half a step behind her. 

The searing heat inside was beyond words. “So, this is what hell feels like,” Severus thought as he observed a wall of flames to his right. The currents twisted and turned into little skulls whose teeth chattered and cackled. The ceiling twisted and turned as snakes of flame slithered across it. In their path was destruction for chunks of plaster fell onto the carpet. The Fidelius charm was still in effect, so the family couldn’t be seen, but some of the ceiling chunks bounced off an invisible dome that was surely a shield charm around the small family. Judging by the flying debris, they were crouched in fear in the middle of the room. 

The smoke was infiltrating Severus’s lungs. He remind himself that this was just an illusion when he realized that Quella had a bubble head charm on already. Noticing his quizzical stare, she explained. “Not all of the smoke is an illusion and it could kill you.” Severus nodded and cast the charm himself as she walked toward the family. 

Once again she raised her arms and the wall of fire began to change. The hundreds of skulls morphed into one large skull. A huge snake of fire slithered along the floor just past the shield charm and up to the hideous skull. Severus was sure that if the Fidelius hadn’t been in effect, he would hear the family begging for someone to save them. The serpent slowly slithered over the sofa and into the mouth of the flaming skull. The undulating image completed the image. A six foot tall dark mark towered over where the family hid. Despite the huge snake crawling in and out of its orifices, the skull still turned slightly toward the family and began to speak. “The Dark Lord wants something, something in your head, Mr. O’Brian. You have a choice. Come to me now and I will try to ensure you death is quick. Deny me and your entire family will perish. I know what you are thinking right now. It must be a lie. We will all die anyways. Here is my response: I do not lie. You were the one who was stupid enough not to have an emergency portkey. People always think the Fidelius Charm is the ultimate protector. They become complacent behind it’s power, but with a little creativity I can make you walk beyond its borders. I don’t lie because I don’t need to. I’m in control here and I’m being benevolent but my patience wears thin. The only path out of this building is the front door. Step beyond and spell’s border and your wife and son will be transported to safety or stay here and die together. The choice is yours.”

Quella began to back up slowly. She turned sharply and exited the house. The last thing Severus saw before following her was the flames flowing toward the family like the River Phlegethon.

“You have quite a flare for the dramatic and a bit of a pyro in you,” Severus whispered into her ear. He was partly horrified and partly enthralled with her performance. Quella smiled briefly but kept her eyes glued to the door. Not ten seconds later, the door opened and they stepped beyond the borders, wands up in the air in surrender. 

Quella wasted no time. She summoned their wands to herself and handed them to Severus. Then she walked up to couple. “The Dark Lord is merciful” she announced “and I will fulfill my promise.” She motioned two men to grab the husband and drag him away. The wife screamed his name as her child cried in terror. Quella handed her a muggle fountain pen. Immediately it began to glow blue. Her last image of her husband was his collapse from the Cruciatus Curse. 

Severus studied the house for a moment, a smile forming on his lips. It was, indeed, on fire for the blaze had consumed most of the second floor at this point, but the living room was only filled with smoke. Just as Severus expected, there never was any Fiendfyre, just the regular fire that sparked from the roof. It would eventually take the house but not nearly at the rate the husband had thought and as a wizard, he could have easily defeated it. “Let’s go,” Quella said, “We’ll regroup at the base.” Six other masks nodded including Gibbon who was finally emerging from a house, still straightening his robes. Seven masks disappeared into the night leaving a smoldering pile of death.

Once back at the Lestrange’s, Quella walked over to the acquired target and motioned Rabastan to give him a quick reminder of pain. Then she shoved her boot into his throat. The man gasped and tried to pull her foot off but she dug her heel into his jugular as she forced his eyes open. After so much terror and pain, his mind capitulated immediately. She was not gentle, Severus could tell, as she searched for the information the Dark Lord wanted. “Excellent,” she cooed. “Your thoughts are looking very promising.” She removed her foot and glanced up at Amycus. “Take him to the Dark Lord immediately for interrogation.” The Death Eater nodded in assent and apparated the victim away. 

“Gibbon, step forward!” Quella commanded. The furthest Death Eater stepped forward a bit, his head drooping in penance. The potion master turned his attention to Gibbon. Evidently, Quella ran her missions like he did his classroom. She expected her directions to be followed instantly only her consequences would be much more severe than dissecting frogs for detention. She jabbed her wand and Gibbon fell to his knees into the mud. A body bind had him frozen as she removed his mask. “Do you remember the last thing I said to you before the mission?” She trailed her fingers along his jaw and over his year. “I told you to follow my directions immediately the first time, every time or the consequences will be severe. Why didn’t you listen?” Gibbon didn’t answer but stared at her with murder in his eyes. “Sorry, Gibbon. I don’t have time for your silent games.” She pointed her wand at his back. “Imperio.” Gibbon’s eyes glazed over a big and then corrected himself. It wasn’t too bad of an Imperius Curse although Severus was sure he could have thrown it off. Gibbon, however, was a lot weaker. “Now let’s try again, shall we?” Quella’s voice was smooth and silky like she was talking to a lover as she leaned toward his ear. “Why didn’t you come back when you were called?” 

GIbbon’s voice was rather flat but he seemed unable to shake off the curse. “I was in the middle of using that whore. It was a rather delicate moment if you know what I mean.” A silly grin spread across his face at the memory, but Quella only looked disgusted. 

“Indeed, I do. Tell me Gibbon, if Severus or Rabastan had been running this mission, would you have taken this attitude or would you have returned to his side immediately.” Her voice started to take on a dark edge to it that sent warning bells into Severus’s mind as he watched. 

“I would have come immediately,” the imperioed Gibbon admitted. 

“Why?” Quella’s voice was now ice shards cutting through the frosty evening. She stepped closer to him until they were almost nose to nose In discomfort he tried to wriggle back from her Bur Quella was persistent her stare pierced through him and made Gibbon struggle to throw off the spell. He failed and gave up.

He gave a fairly good imitation of a sneer and then shrugged. “You are a woman. Why the hell should I take orders from you?”

Quella’s stern gaze morphed into a pout and her icy voice dripped with honey. “Oh Gibbon, such a old-fashion pureblood attitude. This is the new era and what I do now, I do not only for my message to sink in but to defend all women: Bella, Alecto, Narcissa. We all deserve respect especially when the Dark Lord commanded you to follow MY directions.” Once again her voice turned sharp and her eyes narrowed. “Now stand up, take off your cloak, trousers and pants.” Gibbon tried to fight the curse, but Quella charmed him again and he stilled. 

After he stood there clad only in shirt, his manhood hanging limply between his legs, Quella continued her lecture. “The Dark Lord told me to do whatever I needed to keep you all in line and so I shall. Have you ever read your Bible, Gibbon?” The Death Eater startled for a moment trying to understand the shift in topic. “Matthew 5: 29-30. ‘So if your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one of your body parts than to have your whole body thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away from you.’ You, Gibbon, sinned against me. Your fucking cock made your decisions for you, so since it’s getting in the way of you following orders. . . “

Quella did three spells quickly. First she released the Imperius Curse so he knew what was happening. Second she placed him in another body bind and last she used a severing charm. Gibbon howled in pain and grabbed his crotch as blood spurted out. Two of the Death Eaters rushed toward him, realizing that in his condition, he would never be able to heal himself.

Quella studied the man’s appendage that was clutched in her fist before tossing it aside and strode away as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She stopped in front of Severus and carefully, she put her hands on his shoulders and turned his face toward her. “You are angry with me,” she understated. Severus’s jaw clenched and he stared at her in silence. “Because of Gibbons?” She waved her hand vaguely at the attempted surgery behind her.

Severus grabbed her wrists and twisted them as he sneered at her. “So, I guess you’ve proven where you allegiance truly lies?” 

Quella jerked back a bit and bit her lips. “It’s not that simple. It never is that simple, Severus. Now, please let go over my arms.” Severus loosened his grip as she continued. “I have to leave now. I need to give my report and I promised that man that I would ensure his death would be as quick as possible if he cooperated. He held up his bargain, now I shall hold up mine. I need to get ahold of him before Bella discovers there is a new toy in the house. Will you come with me or meet me later?” Her green eyes were luminous as if tears were swimming just below the surface, as if she really was worried about him and his feelings.

Against his better judgement, he relented. “I’ll join you now,” he agreed. Quella nodded almost meekly and took his hand. Then they disappeared. The Dark Lord was expecting her report.


	10. The Greater Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why am I having to justify myself to you? You of all people understand that the deaths of innocents is unavoidable in the tapestry of this charade.”

Quella was good as her word. Within minutes of the Dark Lord raping the captive’s mind, she had secured permission to end the man’s life. Just before she did, she leaned down and whispered to him. “The portkey dropped them in Diagon Alley.” The man nodded once, almost a glint of appreciation in his expression before the green light hit.

Most of the Death Eaters that had gathered for the execution wandered away. The two of them stayed behind to discuss their recent mission with Lord Voldemort. He glanced between them once and seemed to accept Severus’s inclusion into the conversation even though he hadn’t been summoned for that purpose. He turned his gaze directly towards Quella “Why did you leave the woman and child unharmed, Quella? My directions were to eliminate everyone for the good of our cause.. To prove we have the might and the right” The Dark Lord hissed. He dug his fingernails into the arm rests of his chair and pulled himself slowly upward until he was standing over Quella, Nagini curled around the leg of his chair and raised her head hopeful for some attention.

“Because, she’s her own master and she will answer to no one else, even if she has to subtly rebel to do it,” Severus thought to himself. Several of the group had now wandered back into the room jeering a bit from the sidelines. It was obvious from their expressions: they thought the woman would face some severe consequences. Like the crowds of the ancient Colosseum they were there for the “kill”. Gibbon, Severus noted, was not among them. 

“I can only hope that you will be forgiving of that, my Lord,” Quella dropped to one knee but continued speaking. “It was a strategic move. They hadn’t moved out of the Fidelius Charm and fire was surrounding them. I feared the man would rather take his own life than allow me access. During my initiation, I learned the people will do remarkable and unexpected things to prove their free will and to protect their families. I knew this information was important and so I bargained a bit.”

The Dark Lord nodded, his face blank of emotion but his red eyes hard. “And once you had him in your possession, why then allow them freedom?” He thoughtfully sat back own and slid his hand down to his side. Thoughtfully he petted the ever present and beloved snake. She nodded her head back and forth in an almost hypnotic wave of passion.

Quella raised her head to make eye contact, “Because, my Lord, I am a woman of my word. I made a promise and I followed through. That is most important to me. Plus I believe it will benefit your reign. Survivors spread fear. I have no doubt that by tomorrow, the Ministry will realize that the Death Eaters killed someone who was under a Fidelius Charm without ever using the secret keeper. Plus, I left the wife with a very descriptive idea of the power of fire. I assure you, the memory will not fade from her.” She stayed on one knee while the Dark Lord stood over her considering her words. Nagini curled herself around his arm and Voldemort gave the snake a leisurely kiss as he considered Quella’s reasoning. Was she persuasive enough or was she about to earn a round of pain?

The master turned toward the potioneer. “Severus, you entered the target house with Quella? Severus pulled himself away from Quella’s voice and gave his full attention to Voldemort. 

“I did, milord.” Severus bowed his head. What was the Dark Lord alluding to?

“Was the show truly as interesting as her initiation was?” he hissed as he motioned Quella to rise. He gave her a sort of smile and then turned back to Snape and waited for an answer to his question.

Severus paused for a moment to gather his words. He knew they must be well chosen for both Quella and his sake. “It was different, milord. Her initiation was a pageantry of revulsion and horror. This time it was a display of power, to show the strength of dark magic and the uselessness of resistance against it. I will admit the image of her controlling the fiendfyre was quite admirable.”

“Show me,” Voldemort demanded as he looked into Severus’s eyes. Severus stepped forward and showed him Quella standing in front of the house as the the Death Eater created destruction around it and then changing tactics and entering the house. Voldemort’s expression softened into a sort of evil pleasure. His smile widened as he watched the fiery skulls and the enormous Dark Mark talking to the family. When the family stumbled out of the house, he cackled in glee.

“That is quite a gallery of images.” Voldemort declared emphasizing the each word to show he appreciated the power of the illusion and Quella’s mastery of it.

“Yes, milord,” Severus agreed, carefully backing a few steps away from the Dark Lord . “Although the house is probably a rubble by now. It was actually regular fire that burned it to the ground. All the rest was an illusion.”

Voldemort gently pushed his snake away and stood up. He walked towards them and signaled that they could also rise. He gave the waiting pair a sickly pleased smile. “You two have certainly shown yourselves to be worthy of the oath you gave to me as Death Eaters.”

“My Lord,” Quella interrupted. “There was one small complication. It did not impact the mission but I thought you should be made aware. If you recall, we discussed how some of the men may be resistant to my command, particularly the older ones and I had your permission to maintain control.” There was an upsurge of shuffling and muttering as the Dark Lord nodded. “Perhaps a visual of the events” she suggested.

He grabbed her chin and bore his red eyes into her green. Severus knew exactly when he watched Quella innact her punishment because even the Dark Lord, despite being a master of emotion control and occlumency, twitched a bit. “The ramifications of allowing women into the ranks I suppose,” he mused. He finally released her face and glanced between the two of them. “I hope you know what you are doing, Severus. This one is feisty and Avery won’t be in Azkaban forever.” His warning signified his dismissal and the couple bowed before exiting. Severus grabbed her elbow before he had turned around and tightened his grip as he pulled her into apparition.

 

____________________________________________________

Twenty minutes later, they were back at Quella’s flat which one of them had the foresight to blanket in silencing charms before their tempers started to flare. 

“Out with it!” Quella demanded as she threw her mask on the sofa. “You’ve been fuming with me since we started this operation. Why are you so angry with me?”

“You can’t see it?,” Severus sneered as he dropped his mask on top of hers. “You say you have no master. Well that looked a hell of like following his orders to destroy people’s lives. Please enlighten me because I don’t see how this little raid hasn’t put you even more under his thumb.”

“That’s why you are angry?” Quella was dumbfounded. “Why do you care that I led the raid? What does it matter to you? Are you upset because I stepped too far to the Dark side of my balance beam? Do you think I view him as my true master?”

“I’m upset because you allowed at least ten other people to be assaulted, tortured and burned when you really only needed to attack one house,” Severus roared at her. Disgust was etched in his face. He pushed his lanky hair out of his face and continued to glare at her. 

“I needed a diversion!” Quella yelled back. The air around her was starting to shimmer with an unknown illusion. “Why am I having to justify myself to you? You of all people understand that the deaths of innocents is unavoidable in the tapestry of this charade.”

“Dumbledore will be disgusted with you when he hears of the events of tonight,” Severus mocked recognizing that he was pushing her to the brink but not caring. “He would have told you that this was too far. Murder of someone to end their pain, Killing of one person to remain in the dark ranks are acceptable, but the slaughter of so many innocents. I think I understand which side your allegiance really is on.” He picked up a dining room chair and slammed it down hard enough to crack one leg.

Quella’s jaw went slack and her shoulders drooped. She took several deep breaths until the illusion settled down and she continued with control. “Well, that’s not a very Death Eater view. Evidently we have confirmation of where your true allegiances are as well,” she replied wriley. She held up a hand to his objection. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to inform the Dark Lord, but I have a question for you. Do you really think that Dumbledore would be horrified by my decisions tonight or do you think he would have accepted it despite the repercussions.”

“If Dumbledore had known, he would have stopped you,” he announced stammering baldly just a bit as he ended his declaration.. 

“Then go ask him,” she said simply away. “I have not talked to him about this mission but I told you the date and I purposely met with Bas at the Hog’s Head because if Aberforth wants to know what is said in his pub, he’ll know and he’ll report it to his brother. Go see what he says.”

 

___________________________________________________

Severus was furious. He was furious with himself, with Quella, with Dumbledore, with anyone else who had the audacity to be in his path. He stomped into the castle and slammed the door. Peeves floated around the corner cackling merrily, obviously ready to agitate whoever was out in Hogwart’s corridors at two in the morning, but the moment he saw the irate scowl covering the potion master’s face. It was enough to make even the most capricious poltergeist turn around and scurry back from whence he came which he did quickly.

“Who did Quella think she was fooling?” he berated himself. For the umpteenth time since he met her, he wondered which side of this war was she really supporting. Her actions was so obviously one-sided tonight. Even he, the master double-agent, could plainly see the elation across her face as she burned the village. . . and then she had thrown that last question at him: Dumbledore. How was she able to manipulate him so quickly when it came to anything about his mentor? 

Severus pounded down the stairs and waved his wand to pass the wards into his room. He gave the door a satisfactory slam and flung himself into his favorite wingback chair. She was good, he admitted to himself. “She was so persuasive and manipulative. It was almost as if the headmaster had trained her himself.”

Even as he contemplated all the harsh things she had said and done, his mind continued to taunt him with images of her curves, with the passion of her kisses and most of all with the truthfulness of her words about the headmaster.

 

“desire to control the Wizarding World.”

“prefers to control from the shadows.”

“always made sure that the ministry’s structure is a house of cards. It hasn’t fallen because Dumbledore hasn’t pulled the correct cards outs.“

“controls through manipulation and persuasion. Dumbledore is more subtle like a wind shifting in and surrounding you. You don’t realize the warm breeze is a tornado until it’s too late and you have been sucked in”

“All great men trod upon the weak masses to meet their goals. Great men believe the end justifies the means no matter the cost. . . . Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord are great men.”

 

Could Quella be correct? Did Albus actually know about the raid before it began? Severus, himself, had told Dumbledore the date but hadn’t known the other pertinent information. If he had known, why hadn’t he sent the Order to intervene? Severus slammed his fist on the arm of the chair. “Damn!” There was only one way to find out. He pulled out his wand and a glowing deer burst forth. She cantered a bit about the room, paused and looked at him in expectation. “Wake up, Albus. Tell him I’m coming to talk to him right now.” She tilted her head to the aside as if worried about his current condition and then bounded way toward the tower. Severus dragged himself out of the chair, gulped down a Pepperup Potion and went to find his mentor.

 

Dumbledore must have gotten his message because the man was dressed in a deep purple dressing gown with sparkling stars scattered about it. He was sitting behind his symbolic throne-his oak desk like he had been there for hours although Severus seriously doubted it. At several hours past midnight, even the headmaster had to sleep occasionally. 

“To what do I owe this rather early meeting, Severus?” the elder man asked. “Tea?” 

Severus nodded as he sat in his designated spot. The pepper-up potion hadn’t been enough. Perhaps tea would help. There was several moments of silence broken only by Albus’s humming and the clinking of spoons and cups. Finally, Severus brought up his concerns. “Did you know, Albus?”

Albus stirred his tea once more, handed Severus his.Then he leaned back and eyed his former potion master. “I am over one hundred years old, Severus. I have acquired vasts amounts of knowledge at my fingertips. Please elaborate as to what I might know.”

Severus leaned over the desk, his eyes gleaming. “Did you know about the raid at the O'Briens beforehand? Did Aberforth tell you about it.”

Albus’s innocent humming stopped and the twinkle immediately disappeared from his eye. “How did you know about that raid, Severus? I thought the Dark Lord wasn’t summoning you for such things during the school year?” His hand reached and and he stroked Fawkes, his loyal phoenix. The bird nuzzled Dumbledore’s hand and pushed at it in an attempt to make sure he did not stop.

As Severus watched the scene of master and pet before him, the tea cup in his hand shattered. Two images flashed through his brain: the flames of the night before and Voldemort contently petting his own pet. “Don’t play me for a fool, old man. I know because I was there. I watched Death Eaters burn those homes. I heard the screams of their victims as they were assaulted. I watched as fire consumed their lives, so my question for you is. Did you already know? Did Aberforth tell you what was going down. Could you have sent in the Order to stop the madness and protect those people?”

Albus’s blue eyes turned to ice and an manipulative smile formed on his face. “Don’t you mean, we heard the screams of those victims as we assaulted them, we burned those homes, Severus? If you were there, you were participating in those acts.”

“Don’t try to dump this guilt into my lap,” Severus snarled. “Why? Why didn’t you send a contingency of the Order? Why didn’t you have those homes vacated before we left? What possible excuse could you have for letting innocent people die!”

“I did it for the Greater Good, Severus,” the headmaster answered. He never raised his voice. It was like he was answering a question about the weather.

“The what?” Severus asked aghast.

“The Greater Good,” Dumbledore repeated himself. “Did Aberforth tell me? Yes, two days ago. Could I have sent the Order. Of course, but I had to think of the Greater Good. This was Janus’s first time leading a raid. It was Voldemort’s idea to test not only her abilities on a raid but her loyalty as well. If anyone had shown up, there would have been a high probability of suspicion. It sounds like the raid was a successful which should further her career in the Death Eaters.

“Further her---” Severus just stared at Dumbledore as if seeing him for the first time. He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before he trapped the man in his gaze. “The Dark Lord only required one man from that village, one man. Did it not occur to you to vacate others surrounding his house? You had two bloody days to think it over. Did you not even consider ways to help those villagers?”

Dumbledore’s eyes turned hard and he glared as his employee, “Do remember, Severus, that I am the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and as the leader, sometimes I have to make hard, almost impossible decisions. Do not presume to understand my position.”

Severus stood up and sneered, “Of course, Albus, because I know nothing about making impossible decisions. I know nothing about dealing with war.” He turned abruptly and walked to the door, his robes billowing behind him.

“Severus,” Dumbledore called out. All Severus wanted to do was ignore the old man, act like the man’s word meant nothing to him, but his feet stopped him anyways. “Regardless of how you feel about me. Despite that fact you disagree with my choices in this manner. You are still honor bound to complete your task when the time comes.”

Severus turned slightly back towards Dumbledore and spat out said bitterly. “You mean the simple task of killing you at your convenience,” 

“Yes,” Dumbledore answered. “Perhaps your anger with me for this night will help you complete that endeavor.”

Severus shook for a moment, fury coursing through his veins. He opened his mouth to rebuke but stopped himself. He took a deep breath, focused on the door and walked out of the office with a dignity that belied the anger boiling inside him..


	11. Filling the Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did he keep his promise? Did Dumbledore protect the people you loved?” Quella asked quietly. She released his waist and slowly rubbed circles on his back.
> 
> “No,” he admitted, “at the time, I thought he did everything he could, but after this. . . . . I wonder if her death was somehow part of his Greater Good campaign.”

Quella opened her apartment’s door fifteen minutes later to find Severus: a man, renown in the Wizarding World, for his cool demeanor, for his unruffled composure, and a reputation for unshakeable logic, standing in front of her. Today he didn’t look like any of those things. He just looked broken. His face had aged years since she had seen him an hour before. His normally straight posture crumpled by knowledge. “May I come in?” he croaked.

Quella stepped back and gestured with her hand inside. He passed by and headed straight for the big picture window. Just like the first time he was here, the sun was about to make its daily debut, casting light and hope upon the darkness. How Severus wished he could cast light into his soul at that moment. He felt like darkness was overwhelming him. 

“He knew,” he whispered. “He already knew and he did nothing.”

Quella said not a word. She simply walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his back. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t talk to him directly in case the Dark Lord was able to penetrate my occlumency shields. I hoped the clues would be enough.”

“They were,” he replied bitterly. “He understood perfectly. He just chose not to act. He chose to do nothing--all in the name of entrenching you deeper with the Death Eaters.”

He could feel Quella nod into his shoulder blades. She placed her cheek flat upon his spine and he could feel her deep breaths.

“I don’t know which side is the light anymore, Quella. Is there a light and darkness? Is there a difference? I thought it was crystal clear. When I joined the Death Eaters I knew they were dark, they were evil, but I thought I could control it. I thought they would give me the power to. . . to. . . and then I defected and I thought Dumbledore was the light. His ideas were pure, protect the people you love, protect the innocent.” Severus continued to stare into the rising sun lost in his memories.

“Did he keep his promise? Did Dumbledore protect the people you loved?” Quella asked quietly. She released his waist and slowly rubbed circles on his back.

“No,” he admitted, “at the time, I thought he did everything he could, but after this. . . . . I wonder if her death was somehow part of his Greater Good campaign.” He turned around and looked at her, his face filled with remorse, but his eyes shining with fury. “How can I trust him, Quella? How do I trust Dumbledore with my life? With Potter’s life?” She said nothing for she knew no words could heal at that moment, but simply cupped his cheek with her palm. “I feel so dead inside so dead. I just want to feel something good, a spark of hope. I need to feel alive.” His eyes were now blazing with fury but something formed and grew deeper-desire, a need to fill the void, to push away the emptiness.

Severus grasped the back of her head, his eyes asking permission and when Quella didn’t look away, he pulled her hungrily toward him, claiming her mouth, demanding her lips. Quella met him with equal fervor, pushing her tongue deeper, challenging him for dominance. He could feel the heat in his loins stir and ignite into a blaze as she nipped at his lip and ran her fingers through his hair.

Finally they emerged, both breathless and his eyes asked one more time if she was sure. “Yes,” she whispered, “hell, yes.” He grinned, almost possessively, and traced his lips along her jaw. As he reached the hollow of her neck, Quella let out a low moan and Severus felt himself harden even more. His fingers reached her waist, slipping under her the lace and began trailing up her sides, leaving shivers through her body. As he reached the curve of her breast, he felt only soft skin. “No bra,” he smiled to himself.

“YOU have way too many clothes on,” Quella hissed as she tugged at his waistcoat. “Oh forget it,” she snarled. She reached into his pocket and grabbed his wand. Severus stiffened for a moment as she waved it at him. Instantly, his outer clothes were gone and his wand tossed carelessly to the side. 

“Whereas your outfit is quite. . . accommodating,” he whispered pulling back a moment to examine her lacy pyjamas. The boy shorts ended at long, lean legs, one which, at the moment, was wrapped around his waist. Severus trailed his fingers around her middle and tightened the bottom of the camisole with his fists, slowly pulling it over her head. He took a moment to appreciate her breasts before lowering his head, touching his tongue to her taut nipple. A groan ripped through Quella as she grabbed the back of his hair pushing him closer and grinding her hips into him. His body throbbed with anticipation and his desire made itself well known to them both. 

With a satisfied grin, he trailed kisses down her stomach, taking only a moment to tear away her knickers before continuing the path. “Bedroom is that way,” Quella managed to gasp out pointing vaguely. He lifted his head giving her the opportunity to grab his face and claim another kiss. With her legs wrapped around his body and her mouth demanding, Severus managed to stagger them toward the bedroom door. 

_____________________________________________________

 

Severus awoke with the sun high overhead streaming through gauzy white curtains. For a moment he stiffened but relaxed when he remembered his location. He turned his head to the slight movement at his side and met a faceful of wavy, pale red hair and silky skin. A silly grin spread across his face as he thought about last night, well really early this morning but then his features darkened when he recalled the reason he landed on her doorstep. The anger was still there, bubbling under the surface, but at least he felt he could control his emotions. He was a mess last night. He had never felt so out of control, so helpless, not since the night Lily died. 

Sighing, he rolled over and propped his head with his hand so he could observe the woman better. Quella made his life even more complicated. There was no doubt she had opened his eyes to some things-things that had stood in front of him for years, but he had turned a blind eye to until now. This new knowledge was concerning, but it didn’t really change his role. He had no choice. His obligation was clear, but what about her? Where did she stand? He understood what she declared, that she would serve neither master, but what if she wasn’t given a choice. If she was forced to choose, which side would she choose? 

Whatever happened, it was the distant future. As angry as he was Dumbledore, at the world, he was going to enjoy this moment. Lazily, he stroked the creamy thigh. He traced up and down the skin and dipped under the sheet that was twisted around her middle. A playful smile formed on her lips and one vivid green eye opened. “Good morning. That was fun last night,” she said. “We should have done it earlier.”

“Actually, I think it’s closer to good afternoon and we can always make up for a late start.” His silky tones sent a shiver through her body, but then her stomach grumbled, demanding attention. 

“Perhaps after breakfast,” she suggested. “Pancakes with syrup.”

“I’d rather have you dipped in syrup,” he growled making a grab at her but Quella was having none of that. She slapped him playful and firmly gripped the sheet as she rose from the bed. 

She dressed quickly allowing him a few moments to enjoy the view before she stepped toward the door. “Breakfast in fifteen minutes. Don’t fall back asleep.”


	12. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly the sound of a SLAP cracked through the trees as Voldemort’s hand connected with her face, snapping her neck backward. “I asked you a question, Quella. Are you a spy?”

Their affair was hot and heavy all through the Christmas Hols and anytime Severus could get away from school that winter and early spring. Dumbledore had no clue. Bella snickered about it. Other Death Eaters warned them about Avery’s jealous streak. The Dark Lord seemed amused by the idea, but neither one of them cared. To Quella and Severus, it was their fantasy, their attempt to escape the real world and all the pain it brought. 

Severus’s birthday arrived and they celebrated it with a quiet dinner in a restaurant tucked in a far away corner of Muggle London. As had become their custom, Severus cast a Muffliato after the server took their order. “Tell me more about your illusions, Quella.”

Quella paused her fork halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean, Severus?”

“Just tell me about it. How it works, what it’s like, anything,” he said. He slowly swirled the wine in his glass around and around.

She paused for a moment and put her fork down on her salad plate. “Well, I think it’s related to legilimency because it was actually easier for me learn that than occlumency. I know. I know. It’s backwards,” she interrupted as he opened his mouth to ask another question. “I actually learned legilimency quite early-proficient by thirteen. I figured if I understood that then I better protect my mind, too.”

“Which sense is the easiest to create?” Severus continued his questions. 

Quella put her finger to her lip in thought. “Probably sight. Again that may sound backwards because humans depend on so much information from sight, but it also easily deceives people. Their brains just fill in the blanks or fill in what they assume is already true, so even if my illusion isn’t perfect, their brains compensates for me.”

“And the hardest?” he asked as the server set an Italian dish of pasta, sausage and marinara sauce in front of him. 

Quella waited until the server walked away before answering. “Probably smell. Despite our over use of eyes, our sense is smell is actually quite acute. As a potion master, I’m sure you recognize that.” Severus nodded but didn’t interrupt. “It’s challenging to get it correct especially since the interpretation of various smells is different for each of us. I can’t create an illusion of your personal interpretation if that makes sense. However, people, rarely recognize when a smell is absent, but only think about it when it’s noticed, so if it’s a complicated illusion, I’ll often downplay that sense.”

Severus nodded for a moment. He stabbed a sausage with his fork, deep in thought. “I wonder if you could create an illusion of Amortentia.”

“The smell or the affects of the potion?” Quella asked as she grabbed for a piece of bread and began to slather butter on it.

Severus stopped to consider this for a moment then shrugged his shoulders. “Either or both.”

“I don’t know,” Quella admitted as she buttered her break. “That would be an unusual challenge. I will tell you something else that seems backwards. It’s easier to give an illusion to a whole room of people than just one.”

“Really?” Severus was surprised at this one. “I assumed it would take more power to impact more people.”

“Yes but no,” she answered evasively. “It does take quite a bit of power in a large room but it takes even more to focus the magic on just one person’s location. Think of it like trying to hit one small target with your spell versus spraying the entire area with the charm. If there was only one person in the room, I wouldn’t bother trying to focus it.”

A mischievous smile appeared on Severus’s face. “So, if you wanted to create an illusion that you were dining naked right now.”

Quella narrowed her eyes at him. “I would definitely direct it to you. Otherwise the entire room would see me sitting at this table naked and I doubt the maitre d’ would let us finish our dinner.”

“Pity,” he laughed. “They might just find it as enjoyable as I would. Perhaps we could practice some illusions after dinner at your flat.”

“Why have illusions when you can have the real thing,” Quella quipped back dapping her mouth with a napkin.

“How about a mixture?” he replied as he motioned for the check. “Best of both worlds.”

“Maybe,” she said coyly. “I have your birthday cake back at the flat. Maybe, after you enjoy that.”

 

 

________________________________

Several weeks later, Severus was summoned during one of Potter’s Saturday detentions.   
Wincing in pain, he stood abruptly from his desk, poorly written essays scattering to the floor. “Something has come up,” he growled. “Pack your things and leave.”

“But sir, I still have an hour of detention to go,” the Gryffindor complained. 

Severus rolled his eyes. Despite knowing he much he deserved the punishment, the boy did nothing but whine and complain that he had detention every Saturday until the end of term. Now he was whining that the professor was letting him go early--teenagers! Severus absentmindedly rubbed the throbbing pain of his left arm as he opened his mouth to yell at the brash teenager. Harry, however, took one glance at Severus’s arm movements and his eye grew round as saucers. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled, grabbing his books and bolting for the door. 

Severus waved his wand at his classroom, resetting the wards. He hurried up the stairs and through the main doors toward the gates. There was no doubt that Potter had made the connection and was now informing his two annoying sidekicks that Severus had been summoned, but there was nothing he could do about it right now. The Dark Lord gave him some leniency on arrival time given his unusual location and school required activities. Also he took into account the far distance Severus was from an apparition point, but his grace period varied greatly depended on the mood of the Voldemort. Severus contemplated the summons as he passed through the winged boars. He was rarely bothered by a summons during the school week and then it was usually preannounced. The lack of forewarning bothered him greatly. 

One step passed the wards, Severus was twisting in the air. His feet had barely hit the ground before he conjured up his mask and donned it while marching toward the congregation of black robes who were clustered in a small forest clearing. 

“Ahh, Severus, at last you have joined us,” the high-pitched voice sent shivers down Severus’s spine as he approached the dark wizard. His eyes scanned the group quickly as he knelt before his master, kissing his robes. He kept his face down attempting to regain composure at what he had just glimpsed. It reminded him of Quella’s initiation ceremony but with a dreaded twist. Like before there was a loose ring of Death Eaters surrounding a kneeling victim. Only this time it was Quella, herself, on the ground.

Voldemort’s robes swept around her kneeling form as he motioned Severus inside the circle. “I have a problem, Severus. It seems Quella, here, met with a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Bella watched her meet with a man. Afterwards when this loyal Death Eater,” his gaze swept over to the dark haired beauty who looked back adoringly, “followed the man, she discovered a treacherous discovery. Evidently he was actually a certain half-blood metamorph from that Order. Around the corner from Quella’s little meeting, he morphed back to the pink haired bitch.” He paused for a moment, twisted back and gripped Quella’s chin painfully, squeezing it until a small yelp pain escaped her lips. “So, the question is,” he reached down staring into her eyes, “are you a spy?”

Quella didn’t respond to Voldemort’s inquiries but she didn’t flinch away either, but rather kept her gaze constant on his face. The Dark Lord’s red eyes bore into hers. His gaze ripped into her like a mind machete, yet to her credit, she did not move. He pulled back and keeping her chin trapped in his long, white fingers. Slowly he trailed a single finger across her chin and behind her ear. Suddenly the sound of a SLAP cracked through the trees as Voldemort’s hand connected with her face, snapping her neck backward. “I asked you a question, Quella. Are you a spy?”

Quella raised her face once again, not bothering to wipe away the blood that was oozing from her nose. “Albus Dumbledore is an aristocratic fool. I would not follow him.” 

Voldemort hissed in frustration and aimed his wand at the kneeling figure. Immediately, she fell over, curling up into a ball as her body twitched and contorted and her screams echoed to the sky. Severus willed himself to remain a statute knowing that even the slightest twinge of sympathy could be detrimental to both of them. 

When the Dark Lord finally lifted the curse, Quella lay on the dirt, panting and moaning. By some miracle, she had not lost all bodily control, but the bleeding nose had increased with blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth and from a pool of dark red in her hair where she had bashed her head on a rock while convulsing. 

“I will ask you, one last time. Are you a spy for the Order of the Phoenix?” the cold voice demanded as his wand waved threatenly near her body.

Quella managed to roll herself up to a sitting position. She took two deep breaths before facing her torturerer. “If Bella’s witnessing is enough to condemn me, kill me now, my Lord, but you need only look into my eyes to know that I do not believe in Albus Dumbledore and I would rather face my own death then follow him.”

Lord Voldemort blinked in surprise and studied her thoughtfully. “Then prove it to me,” he responded. “Show me the conversation between you and the metamorph.” 

Quella nodded, lifting her eyes to her master’s once again. Her body was so weak that she was sagging down, threatening to topple over. Disgusted with her lack of strength, the Dark Lord pulled her up by her chin, stretching her neck to the point of almost breaking, allowing her only the shallowest of breathes. After only a few moments, he dropped her to the ground like a sack of potatoes. 

Severus forced himself to stay in his place, watching her form carefully, praying for a moan, a lifting of shoulders, a curling of a finger, anything to hint that she was still alive. His investigation was cut short by the Dark Lord’s cold, high voice. “Quella is innocent of spying; however, not of stupidity for even engaging the Order member,” he announced as he turned back to the woman. “I don’t tolerate stupidity, Quella. The only way you will learn is by punishment and the more personal your punishment, the more likely you will learn.” He paused for a moment as Severus gulped down the nausea that threatened him. He knew what was coming. He had been a Death Eater for almost two decades. He knew exactly how the Dark Lord liked to make punishments “personal.”

“Severus,” the Dark Lord turned to the potion master. “It seems your lover needs some discipline. If you will do the honors,”

“I can do this,” Severus thought as he stepped up, his face grim. “I have murdered, maimed and tortured in the name of the Dark Lord before. This is nothing different.” He bowed his head as he acknowledge out loud. “As you have commanded, my Lord.” When he raised his wand against Quella, he saw the faintest of movements and the tiniest of groans as Quella started to revive. He closed his eyes and hoped that the pain would knock her out quickly and that she would survive. Even as he felt his heart twist in horror at what he was about to do, he let anger at the Dark Lord curse through his veins and give power to the curse as it left his wand. “Crucio!”


	13. Stupidity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can forgive me all you want, but it doesn’t really matter because I will not be persuaded into thinking it was in anyway my fault.

Severus rinsed the washcloth again in a basin of cold water and dabbed Quella’s forehead. The lacerations had been easily healed with a wave of a wand, but the effects of the cruciatus would last into days if not weeks. As if on queue, Quella’s body began to shake, tiny tremors that quickly turned to convulsions almost seizure-like. Severus grabbed her shoulders gently and held her down to keep her from injuring herself. After the pain has passed, a gutteral sound ripped from her body. Quella curled onto her side and retched over the edge of the mattress spattering Severus’s shoes and the floor until the sounds turned to dry heaves and sobs. 

The potioneer said not a word, but flicked his wand three times dissipating the mess and the stench. He eased the woman up to a reclining position and offered her a glass of water. Each sip seem to take immense effort and she cringed with each swallow until her thirst was quenched and the pain receded a bit. 

As she half leaned back into Severus’s arms, he grabbed the washcloth and dabbed her forehead once more. “What the hell happened?” Quella croaked as she relaxed in his arms. 

“You disappointed the Dark Lord,” Severus stated the obvious. 

Even in her current state, Quella managed to roll her eyes. “Yes, that message from him was crystal clear.” She attempted a snarky voice but failed miserably. “What I mean is, why are you here?”

Severus finished dabbing her face and wrung the cloth out one more time. “The Dark Lord has long known that psychological torture can be just as instructive and sometimes even more so than physical torture. Your lesson for meeting up with Auror Tonks was not just the pain of the cruciatus curse but who implemented it.”

Quella let out a small gasp. “It was you. I felt the curse but was too far gone to lift my head to see who. . . He ordered you to torture me.”

Severus nodded, “and to clean up the aftermath,” he added.

Quella furrowed her brow. “The aftermath?”

Severus sighed as he eased himself from the bed. He picked up the bowl of water and cloth and turned back toward Quella. “Yes, the aftermath. It was my job to deal with your body afterwards whether it was to take it to a sick bed or to a grave. Honestly, for a few hours there I wasn’t sure which place you were going.”

He walked away, his back straight and his robes billowing out, but she could still see the tension in his shoulders as he left for a few minutes but came back with a tray of hot tea, thin soup and pain potion. He set the tray on the end table and busied himself making her tea. When he handed it to her, she noticed that the cup was only about one third full which she thought odd until her fingers wrapped around it and she realized her hands were still trembling. Severus sat carefully on the edge of the bed and studied her for a moment in silence. “I don’t blame you,” Quella said trying to ease the tension. “If you hadn’t used the Cruciatus on me, you would have been in the same predicament that I was in and someone else would have done it. Perhaps without the tenderness of your after care”

A sneer formed on his face. “You can forgive me all you want, but it doesn’t really matter because I will not be persuaded into thinking it was in anyway my fault. I won’t ask you what your conversation was with Tonks nor what the Dark Lord thinks that conversation was, but meeting Tonks in the middle of a public street. You were sloppy and stupid. Last night was your own damn fault.”

“I was in disguise,” Quella tried to defend herself. The hot tea burned as it slipped down her injured throat but she ignored the pain. “As far as Tonks is concerned, she met with a man named Janus.”

Severus threw her a look of disgust. “It looks like your disguise wasn’t that impressive because Bella somehow knew who you were.”

Quella closed her eyes and rubbed her throbbing temples . She knew he was right. She had been sloppy and stupid and she had paid dearly for it.

“I only have one question for you,” Severus broke Quella from her moment of self pity and she focused back on him. “Do you think taking the mark was worth it?” He gestured to her shaking body. “You’ve now had a taste of the violence, of the pain, of the glory of the Dark Mark. Do you think it’s worth it?”

Quella set her rattling tea cup down and grabbed the pain potion. She chugged it, forcing it down her throat even as it threaten to come back up. In a rather unladylike manner, she wiped the back of her mouth with her sleeve. “Does it really matter what I think? Does it really matter if I think it’s worth it? What’s done is done and there is no escape from it now.”

Severus arched one eyebrow at her. “Indeed,” he agreed and then paused. “However, there is one way to escape the Dark Lord’s servitude--Death.”

Silence sat between them for a moment as Quella considered his words. “True,” she admitted, “but thanks to you, that wasn’t the option this time.”

_________________________________________

Several hours later, Severus marched up the stairs of Number 12 and slammed closed the front door, not caring who heard whether it be the people meeting in the kitchen downstairs nor the portrait of the house’s mistress who began her traditional shrill the moment the banging door reverberated through the front hall. With robes billowing out, he stalked past the former, waving his wand, silencing her without even a pause in his steps. 

He halted only at the top of the basement steps for there at the bottom were Mad-eye Moody and Bill Weasley with their wands poised for attack. Mad-eye narrowed his one good eye while the other dilated and constricted as it examined him. “What was our last conversation about?” he asked the potioneer.

Severus rolled his eyes but consented to the security measure. “You were attempting to convince me to be kinder to Potter despite the fact I found him having attempted to murder one of my Slytherins with a very Dark Curse not three weeks ago, but I ignored your paltry threats and told you I would discipline the boy in whatever manner was appropriate for his imbecile brain and keep your power hungry auror self out of my business,“ he sneered. “Now, go sit back down at your little meeting or move the fuck out of my way.”

Bill remained as complacent as ever but Moody looked like he was about to retaliate for such a rebuke and he might have except for Bill’s firm hand steering him back to the table. All eyes were on them and then on the black robes that followed them as Severus took his traditional position, leaning on the edge of the mantel. 

One particular set of eyes, ice blue in nature, followed his path and a frown appeared upon the owner’s face. “Severus, I didn’t realize that you were coming to this meeting.” The headmaster’s voice was light but his face held tension.

“You probably didn’t expect me to be here because you never bothered to tell me about it,” Severus sneered as he stared the old man down. “However, I had obtained some information which led me to believe that an Order meeting would be soon and Minerva was kind enough to give me the exact time.”

McGonagall looked up alarmed, scanning between the two men trying to understand was amiss.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment before bowing his head. “Forgive me, Severus. I know you are stretched thin with your schedule and didn’t want to bother you.”

Severus leaned forward, probing the man with his obsidian eyes. “Why don’t you let me make that decision Albus? Did it ever occur to you that I might have come because I would like to say something.”

Dumbledore stared at him looking very concerned and baffled. Normally, the spy reported directly to Albus and then the leader of the Order decided what the other members needed to know. “Severus, we can talk privately after the meeting.”

“Oh, no,” Severus interrupted a sly grin upon his face. “I think my announcements will be more beneficial for the entire group but I’ll wait.” 

Dumbledore simply nodded once as the others shifted uncomfortably in their chairs he tension between the two powerful wizards sliced into the rooms atmosphere and bore into everyone there. “Well, then let’s start the meeting,” Dumbledore began. He started calling on various members of the order for updates and announcements. Several times Tonks opened her mouth to say something, but the Headmaster ignored her. She gave several meaningful glances at Lupin and attempted to make eye contact with their leader with no success. 

After a few reports, Dumbledore shuffled his paperwork and looked up at the Potion Master. “Severus, I don’t want to keep you. Did you have something to report?”

“No,” Severus replied nonchalantly. “Not at this time, but why don’t you call on Nymphadora. She looks like she wants to wave her hand up in the air like grown up Granger to get your attention.”

Tonks frowned at him, her hair turning bright red for a moment before settling back on pink. Then she turned back to the table. “I’m sorry, Albus but I thought you wanted me to report my meeting with our contact.”

Dumbledore sighed. It was obvious that he didn’t want Tonks to report with Severus standing there but judging by the triumphant smile on the spy’s face, he already knew, so he motioned for the junior auror to take center stage.

Tonks gave their leader one more searching look before turning to the group. “I met with a man who has some contacts within the Death Eater community. Given the almost honeycomb structure that You-Know-Who has created within his servants, no Death Eater knows everything that is going on. Albus was hoping that this man might pick up some information that Severus doesn’t have access to. He gave me a codename of Janus.” 

Severus waited quietly leaning on the mantle, arms crossed, waiting for her to finish her report. As she finished up her findings from Janus, he straightened up and interrupted her conclusion. “Now, tell us dear Tonks, did this Janus realize which member of the Order he was meeting with?”

“No, of course, not,” Tonks replied tersely. “I gave him a previously agreed upon codename, myself.” She morphed herself into a nondescript thirty year old man with brown hair and palish skin to emphasize the point.

“And once you concluded this meeting in broad daylight, you moved somewhere else to change back into your usual annoying self.” Severus wasn’t really asking a question. 

Remus’s eyes narrowed trying to understand where he was going with this and started to reply but Tonks lightly covered his hand with hers and continued. “Yes,” Tonks replied, still baffled. “I stepped into a small alley. Nobody saw me change back. What’s with the questions?”

“So,” Severus commented, almost dramatically, “a nondescript brown haired man has a talk with someone who consorts with Death Eaters and then disappears into a tiny alleyway with no other exit. Less than thirty seconds later, the ever famous Order of the Phoenix’s own little Metamorph exits the same alleyway and saunters down the street. Plus she does all of this obvious action in front of Bella Lestrange who was across the street and you never noticed!” By the end of his rampage, Severus’s voice was hard has ice and the Order was shocked into silence.

Tonk’s face had turned a deathly pale, “Oh my. I never thought. . . I mean. . . How could I have been so stupid. . . Please tell me Janus is still alive.”

Severus leaned down so he was face to face with the young auror. “Oh, he’s alive,” he silky voiced cut her to the bone. “Barely, but alive and the only reason he is is because I was the one who was forced to punish him, as a message to Albus about the stupidity of his followers.” Severus stood up abruptly, only pausing to make eye contact with Dumbledore and watch the man flinch. Then he whirled around and stalked up the stairs, leaving a dumbfounded Order of the Phoenix behind him.


	14. Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most fog may come in on little cat’s feet, sitting on his haunches overlooking the harbor, but this fog was different. It did creep in but not as a slumber but rather as silent as the grave.

“Two weeks until the end of term,” Severus thought as he flicked his wand at a too close couple strolling down the corridor. The students bounced apart abruptly “Everything is going to happen in the next two weeks.” He didn’t know exactly when but he was sure he would have to fulfill his promise to Dumbledore before the term was over. He knew this for several established reasons. First because all hell always broke loose in June. The disaster last year at the Ministry, the third task and the Dark Lord’s return, Lupin’s inability to take his potion and for the two years before, Potter’s insistence on heroics. Come to think of it, ever since Potter showed up at Hogwarts, June had always gone to hell. The second reason, he mused, was because it was obvious Dumbledore wasn’t going to last much longer. The old man was using charms and potions to mask the inevitable, but the end was near. Severus’s hand would be forced before the headmaster died of the curse. He was sure of it. Fate had never been kind to him before and doubted she had changed her attitude this time. 

At least Quella had recovered. She had stayed at Spinner’s End for five days, each evening Severus apparating back to the hovel to check on her. On the fifth day, the place was empty with only a simple note:

Thanks for everything. I owe you.

And he hadn’t heard from her since. For three weeks, not an owl or a patronus. “Actually,” Severus considered. “I wonder if she can produce a patronus. Is her happiest memory pure?” He admitted to himself that not only did he not know, he didn’t want to find out. He had a feeling the truth was less than desirable. 

He waved his wands to bypass the wards of his private rooms and strode directly to the bathroom. Placing both hands on the sink, he studied his visage carefully. Ignoring his obvious probicisous, he stared at his eyes. Recently crows feet had become more than visible and lines of stress surrounded his mouth. “I’m not any purer than she is.” he thought. “I’ve tortured, kidnapped and murdered in my life and now I’m going to do it all again.” He was going to fulfill his obligation to Albus and in doing so, he would push himself so far down a dark path, he wouldn’t never find light again. “Who am I kidding,” he mumbled aloud. “I’m already too far gone for it to matter anyways.”

As he turned from the sink, he heard a shout as someone tried to pass through his wards. Filius Flitwick was waving his wand, undoing the protection as the potion master stepped from his private rooms to his office. 

“Severus,” Flitwick gasped. “Death Eaters in the castle. Come help us!” 

Severus studied the tiny man for a fraction of a second before jabbing his wand at the astounded man. “Stupefy!” He carefully lowered him to the floor and raced out of the his office only to be confronted by two meddling sixth years. “Go help, Professor Flitwick,” he barked, “He’s fallen sick.”

The Hufflepuff girls’ eyes widened a bit with shock but trust. Without a second, thought, they raced toward the fallen man. Severus rolled his eyes. Obviously not Slytherins, they had never considered a second possibility, a more malevolent possibility. Without a second thought for the two, he raced up the stairs of the dungeon. It was time to be acknowledged for the murderer he already was.

_______________________________________________

The day of Dumbledore’s funeral was sunny and friendly. Two days later, the day seemed to pick up the mood of the Wizarding World for it was crying in buckets with melancholy clouds dominating the sky.

Remus pulled the hood of his cloak tighter around his thin frame. He had cast the impervius charm on the ragged outerwear, but it was for naught. The water had soaked through the material leaving his robes as damp as his mood. 

He slipped into the Hogshead and nodded to the bartender who grunted in return. Save for the two hours the bar had closed for the funeral, you would never know his only brother died a few days prior. Remus ordered a mead and carried it to a corner table. There sat a middle aged man with a slight paunch and even more baldness. Besides the red scarf wrapped around his neck, he was rather nondescript. Before him was a butterbeer which he hadn’t touched. “Janus?” Remus asked as he approached the table. 

The man simply nodded and motioned to the other chair. “Remus Lupin,” he said in a voice as monotone as his appearance. “A pleasure to meet a member of the Order. How can I help you?”

Remus sat down and grasped his drink a bit more firmly than required. “I supposed you’ve heard about the Order’s setback.”

Janus snorted a bit. “You mean the death of your esteemed leader. Of course, the death eaters had quite a celebration that evening. I do believe Hogwart’s former potion master was the center of it.”

Remus grimaced. “That’s why I made contact with you. Dumbledore implied he had an ironclad reason for trusting Snape, but. . . . “ The werewolf’s voice trailed off. 

Janus shrugged his shoulders. “What does this have to do with me?”

The Order member leaned forward, his face earnest. “If the Order is to continue Dumbledore’s work, we need a man on the inside. We need information about the Death Eaters. With Snape’s betrayal, you are our only hope.”

Janus fiddled with his bottle before taking a swig and setting it down with a thunk. “Mr. Lupin, you seem under the impression that I care about the Order. Whatever gave you that impression?”

Remus’s mouth dropped in shock, “but you’ve been giving information to Dumbledore. You are his spy.”

“Wrong!” Janus spat. “I am many things, but Dumbledore’s I am not. I never trusted that man and with good reason. I had an agenda. I needed information and now I know everything I needed.” Janus pushed his chair back and stood up. 

“What?” Remus cried. “What did you need to know about me? About the Order.” He, desperately, tried to grab the man’s sleeve, but as he reached the material, it was if his hand passed through the smoke. 

“The Order,” the spy scoffed. “I don’t care about the Order. I needed to know about Snape. I needed to be sure of his allegiance. . . . . and now I do.” Without even a nod goodbye, he turned from Lupin and disappeared into the crowd leaving only a butterbeer bottle behind. Remus sat there for a moment stunned at the man’s explanation, trying to make sense of the senseless. Finally, he gave up and reached for the man’s bottle to throw it away, but just as his fingers touched the glass, the drink disappeared as if it had been a mirage.

__________________________________________________

 

Most fog may come in on little cat’s feet, sitting on his haunches overlooking the harbor, but this fog was different. It did creep in but not as a peaceful slumber but rather as silent as the grave. Quella shivered as the boat sailed along. “I hate the cold,” she thought as she attempted to see something of the North Atlantic through the gloom. “I hate the shivers. I hate the despair. I hate the overwhelming power it has.” She glanced at Severus who was sitting next to her on the small craft. His profile was as aristocrats as always. It appeared the cold didn’t bother him. It probably never did. 

Sensing her staring, he turned slightly. “Does the cold ever bother you?” she whispered. 

Severus’s brow furrowed a bit. “Normally, no,” he replied, “but this cold. This cold is different. It’s too filled with memories that I would rather forget.” He paused at her confused expression. “After the Dark Lord’s disappearance twenty years ago, all the Death Eaters were rounded up. I was among them. I spend two weeks in Azkaban before my trial.”

Her curiosity was killing the cat and since it had already brought in the fog, she questioned him further. “How did you convince the Wizengamot?”

Severus gave her a brief smile. “Lucius had the money to influence. Igor, who is now dead, had the stupidity to inform on others. I, on the other hand, had friends in high places. The two weeks here were pure hell. I doubt the devil himself could create a more fitting environment for the evil of the world.”

“Is that what you think?” Quella challenged him. “That the people we are about to rescue are akin to Satan himself?”

Severus pursed his lips. “If I believed that, why would I be here breaking them out of that hell-hole?”

Quella didn’t answer, only cast another warming charm and mused silently “Perhaps only because you were ordered to.” She kept these thoughts to herself. Severus had walked a fine line between two masters. Unlike herself who was only loyal to herself and winning, she had been almost positive that Severus’s loyalty was with the light, with that idiot, Dumbledore. Then Snape had murdered the headmaster and his loyalty for the dark seemed certain at least, she hoped that was the case. Conversations like this made her second guess him again and again and again.. She shook her head. She would never voice her thoughts to the Dark Lord but still she hoped Severus wasn’t blindly following a dead man. 

The boats bumped up against a rocky shore, far away from Azkaban’s only dock. Almost immediately the fog changed. The water vapor turned to ice crystals that quickly enveloped their faces. A feeling of dread prickled at her skin and penetrated down to her bones. Memories of the past began to haunt her, cries of ghosts of her past filled her ears. She dared not look up, indeed she didn’t need to look to know that the sky above them was now filled with floating gray robes and faceless terrors.

“Can you make an illusion of happiness right now?” Severus asked his face paler than usual, his teeth clenched together and his coal eyes filled with anguish and remorse. 

“No,” Quella shook her head. “The dementors impact your soul, not just your mind. That kind of power is beyond even magic. I have no defenses against it. Plus, right now I couldn’t create an illusion even if my life depended on it.”

Severus nodded and jumped to the rocky shore. He offered Quella his hand as she disembarked, gave her fingers a quick squeeze of reassurance before relinquishing them, and then turned with cold determination toward the stone monstrosity. 

The Dark Lord was already staring up, his arms extended outward welcoming the entire scene of death and misery. He turned to face his minions, his voice filled with a horrible glee that would make an sane man quake.

“Welcome, Death Eaters, to Azkaban. Many of you, of course, have intimate knowledge of its towers, but your ability to survive those years shows testament of your loyalty to me. Now, as we return to its shores, we are joined by a natural ally. For the dementors are powerful servants of the dark and their power combined with our pure wizardry shall rule the magical world. Before we can enjoy such a glorious future we must take back our brethren whom the Ministry has unwisely imprisoned behind these walls. For only with their freedom, can the government truly understand that they are powerless and we will be the victorious rulers of all.”

A great cheer rose from the ranks and even the dementors seemed to actually be enjoying themselves. They flew closer to the clan and stood before Voldemort, nodding their robed heads in deference and then flying away, over the ocean, leading the wizarding prison defenseless.

The actual invasion into the prison was so easy, it was almost laughable. Without the dementors, the few wizarding guards left were slaughtered immediately. The Dark Lord went cell to cell ripping the doors from their hinges as if he was their savior, paying little attention to who the cell’s inhabitant actually were. 

However, when he reached the furthest most cell, the dark wizard entered the dank cheerless room and crouched down slightly to its denizen. Blonde hair caked in mud fell before the prisoner’s eyes. His once glamourous clothes were ripped to shreds. He lifted his head and hollow eyes met the red slits. 

“Master,” he croaked. 

“Lucius,” Voldemort crooned. “My servant. It’s good to see you again.”

A confused look crossed Malfoy’s face, Severus noted as he leaned in the doorway, pieces of blasted door still clinging to the hinges. He wasn’t surprised. No doubt Lucius was wondering why the Dark Lord wasn’t furious at him. After all, Lucius has led the group who failed to retrieve the prophecy and landed themselves in prison but Dark Lord looked almost joyed to see his former favorite. He hauled the man up to his feet and slung his arm around the man’s shrunken shoulders. “Ah, Lucius. It’s so good to see you again. We have many things to do. Many plans. Dumbledore is dead, thanks to Snape. Now we need to take over the Ministry and kill Potter, but first, we need a headquarters, some place worthy of my new regime which is why I’ve decided that Malfoy Manor shall be my new home!”

Lucius bowed his head and murmured, “Yes, my Lord,” but when he raised it again, Severus saw a look of terror in Lucius’s eyes. Whether the terror came from what he had endured or what Voldemort was proposing, Severus could not be sure.

“Come on,” Quella said quietly tugging at Severus’s sleeve. “We have prisoners on the other levels to free.” She nodded to Lucius as he stumbled from his cell and trailed behind the Dark Lord’s robes.

______________________

The metal door creaked open. A sliver of light cast upon the filthy stones. As the light grew it reached a man, chained to the far wall. His head was covered with stringy black hair. The clink of footsteps on the stones seemed to wake him from his supor. His two beady eyes opened and squinted as he studied his guest. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” The prisoner grinned when he recognized the red head. 

“Avery,” she replied curtly. “Chained to the wall? Something tells me you haven’t been a model prisoner. Has misbehaving earned you your chains?”

Avery smiled lasciviously. “When have I ever been well-behaved?’

“Good point,” she replied as she aimed her wand at the metal cuffs. “Relashio.”

The Death Eater fell to the ground in a heap, groaning in relief as he rubbed his wrists. His ex-girlfriend approached quietly and tried to heal some of the deeper gashes on his body but as soon as she was within arm’s reach, he yanked her to his body and tried to claim her mouth. Quella seemed to melt in his arms causing him to relax his hold. He was immediately rewarded with a knee to the groin.

“Uph. Whatcha do that for, bitch?” he growled, once again a heap on the floor.

“Avery, I haven’t seen you in over a year. What do you think? I’ve been sitting at home waiting for your ass? Besides you STINK and your breath is abominable 

“But you’ve come to bust me out of here. I thought. I mean why else would you be here? Besides, I’ve had quite a dry spell. I could use some action if you know what I mean,” he whined still grabbing his crotch.

Quella stared at him for a moment in disgust and then shrugged her shoulders. “Avery, you may never change but the outside world has.” She rolled up her left sleeve and exposed the inside of her left forearm. Her ex’s eyes widened at the skull burned into her skin. “I am no longer at your beck and call. I guess you’d have to say we’re now equals. Perhaps I’m even more. Afterall, I am currently quite in the Dark Lord’s favor. You want out of this hellhole, stand up and walk out on your own.” With that she marched out the door, Avery dragging himself behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Most fog may come in on little cat’s feet, sitting on his haunches overlooking the harbor is from Carl Sandburg’s poem. Fog.  
> The actual poem says   
> The fog comes  
> on little cat feet.
> 
> It sits looking  
> over harbor and city  
> on silent haunches  
> and then moves on.


	15. Judgment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you think love is an illusion?” he said.
> 
> “Don’t you?” asked Avery. He tipped back his Ogden's trying to nurse every drop from the bottle.
> 
> “Maybe,” Severus said non-committedly. “But if it is, it’s no more an illusion thant Quella is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed The Other Spy. Please check out my other SS/OC called Even the Best Laid Plans or drop me a comment about this one. 
> 
> The rest of my stories can be found on https://hpfanfictalk.com/archive/

The Death Eaters needed to party, as only Death Eaters know how. Voldemort announced that Malfoy Manor would be hosting a revel the next evening, magnanimously giving the ex-Azakaban residents forty-eight hours to disinfect and reaccustomed their stomachs to solid food. And they all knew no matter their condition that they’d better be there.

The party was to be after a meeting. Severus apparated near the Manor’s gates, pausing only to see another form appear out of thin air. Although the figure was quick, Snape’s wand was already on the man before they recognized each other. 

“Snape.”

“Yaxley”

As they made their way past the Manor’s gates and up the drive, the conversation was very short and one-sided as Yaxley tried to converse about their different missions and peacocks before giving up on the taciturn man. 

They entered the silent dining hall. The others had long since arrived and turned expectantly at the newcomers. The Dark Lord motioned them forward and the potioneer moved swiftly down the table, glancing covertly at Quella who was about halfway down, next to Lucius who looked even worse than he had two days prior in Azkaban.

Severus bowed at the foot of the master and sat in his appointed chair. Like most he tried to avoid the new decoration rotating above them but for a different reason than the others. His heart wretched and bile rose in his throat as he thought of the woman. He was never close to her but didn’t have any ill will against her either. They were polite and respectful colleagues. As far as Severus was concerned, Charity was one of the least annoying co-works of his which rated her fairly high in Snape’s assessment of sentient beings. 

Severus gave his report as did Yaxley. The Dark Lord declared that they had much to celebrate both for recent victories and future ones. He opened the festivities with a thud of Burbage’s body on the table and an invitation for Nagini to feast. Then he motioned the party to move to the next room. 

As the crowd meandered down the hallway, Quella bumped up against him. “Are you staying for the party?” she asked.

“Hardly,” Severus snorted. “It’s not my type of party.”

“Nor mine,” Quella admitted. “I doubt I’ll be expected to stay too long anyways. I was under the impression that woman are usually excused from these type of festivities.”

Severus nodded in agreement as they entered the ballroom. The last time he had been there, ice columns had graced the room casting the room in ethereal glow. This time the decorations were minimal, consisting only of the centerpiece-five,terrified muggle woman magically bound and gagged.  
Quella ignored the spectacle and immediately headed for the bar, downing a shot before Severus had managed to catch up. “Slow down,” Severus whispered. Quella nodded in agreement and gripped her second drink without raising it to her lips. 

On the other side of her, Avery saddled up to the bar, grabbing a bottle of Ogden's. “Quella, love. How are you?” he said. 

The woman immediately stiffened. “You know, I don’t ever recall you saying those words to me before.”

Avery scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “What words?”

“How are you?” Quella said simply. “We were together for what, nine months? I don’t recall you ever caring how I was? What I wanted?” Avery stared at her. It was obvious her words hadn’t really sunk it. Severus snorted in his drink. Avery was so dumb, so self-centered, he couldn’t even follow her simple line of thinking. “Anyways,” Quella continued. “Thank you for asking, I’m fine, but I’m not interested. We’ve been apart for over a year. As I told you before, things change and I’m not getting back with you.”

“Just who the hell do you think you are Quella?” he demanded grabbing her arm roughly. 

“Easy, Avery,” Snape intercepted. 

Quella calmly sent a minor hex at him causing him to jump back a bit. “Let’s be clear, Avery. I’m not interested and will never be interested again. If you need your fix, “ she nodded to the center of the room. “Well, go get it over there.” She sauntered away from the two men, seeking out Narcissa and her son who were attempting to be wall flowers at “their” party. 

“Who is it, Snape?” the angry Death Eater demanded. “With which Death Eater is she cheating on me?

Severus sighed at the ignorance of the man. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Avery, but the center of world doesn’t revolve around you. Even a woman’s life doesn’t revolve around you. You’ve been gone for 14 months. Whether she is with someone else or not is irrelevant. The point is it’s over between the two of you.” Avery scowled but said nothing. Severus leaned against the bar casually but keeping his wand within reach just in case. “Why do you care so much about her?” Severus said. “She’s just a woman. There are a lot more fish in the sea. I can’t believe that you actually loved her.”

Avery scoffed. “Love is an illusion. I want her because no woman says no to me. No woman. She will learn her lesson.”

Severus nodded. He wasn’t surprised by Avery’s remarks and would warn Quella but she would wave him off saying she could handle herself. “So you think love is an illusion?” he said.

“Don’t you?” asked Avery. He tipped back his Ogden's trying to nurse every drop from the bottle.

“Maybe,” Severus said non-committedly. “But if it is, it’s no more an illusion than Quella herself is.”

 

____________________________

Quella and Severus were allowed to escape before the true festivities started. Quella and Narcissa were automatically excused. Bella chose to stay because she “enjoyed a good show.” It was well know in the group that Severus had never been interested in such entertainment, so no one was surprised when he too disappeared.

They made it up to Snape’s room where Severus collapsed on the bed. “So this is where you’ve been hiding,” Quella commented as she looked around the room. It’s style was simple and functional--definitely very Snape and very not Malfoy. Severus must have redecorated a bit when he moved in.

Severus smiled wryly. “Well, circumstances don’t allow me to return to my quarters at Hogwarts and I’m sure even the incompetent Ministry has searched Spinner’s End by now. Give Lucius his due. Malfoy Manor is very secure. That plus its opulence are, I’m sure, why the Dark Lord has picked it for his headquarters.” 

Quella sat upon the bed, crossing her legs in a seductive manner. Somehow the bottom half of her robes had opened to reveal two sultry legs and very short skirt underneath. “Circumstances is that what you call murdering your mentor and boss, circumstances?”

Severus shot her a murderous look but she just smiled serenely. “Well, Anyway I have to thank you for your success in that little “consequence”. It saved me a lot of trouble.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Severus demanded his eyes turning as hard and dark as volcanic glass.

“You’re angry,” she observed. “Is this at me or at the consequence?”

Severus ignored her question and turned to one of his own. “How did the death of Albus Dumbledore save you a lot of trouble?” he scathed his inquiry in her direction.

Quella uncrossed her legs and tilted them slightly to the side. Placing her elbows on her knees, she looked straight at him. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter if you know now that the old man is dead.” She paused for a moment waving her wand, two glasses and a decanter appeared before her. She offered one to him, but Severus waved it away impatient for her explanation. She slowly poured herself some of the amber liquid and took a long sip. “Before you murdered the croon, the Dark Lord had become suspicious of your loyalties.”

“Why?” Severus appeared to be unconcerned in his questioning but she expected otherwise. 

“I don’t think there was anything specific, simply that you’ve spent so many years groveling at that wizard’s feet and you are one of the few Death Eaters who doesn’t play at revels. In short, Severus, underneath all of your sneer and spite, you are a good guy and that makes the bastard nervous.” 

The wizard seemed a bit taken back by her words but quickly recovered. “So, he sent you to spy on me,” he spat. “A spy spying on a spy. How apropos.”

Quella smiled. She leaned back and wrap her arms around his waist. “Don’t think of it like that? It wasn’t a choice. It was a mission. You know how those go. Now, it doesn’t matter. Murdering the old fool has cemented your position of loyalty in the Dark Lord’s inner circle.”

Severus flinched a bit. He carefully removed her arms but kept her hands clasped in his. “And what about you, Quella? How do you feel about me murdering Albus Dumbledore?”

____________________________

The revel had finished. Avery’s victim was particularly bruised and battered. Her body and mind were engulfed in horror just before he snapped her neck. Yaxley glanced over at the body. It’s funny, he could have sworn that she had brown hair but it was now a light shade of red. Her green eyes, obviously a poorly cast coloring charm, stared back blankly. 

“You are rather rough on that one, Ave,” Yaxley pointed to the remains of the muggle. “Is that what happens after fourteen months without action?”

Avery only grunted. Someone had conjured up some soft sofas and he was stretched across one studying the swirls of alcohol at the bottom. “Quella’s a bitch. She deserved it,” he muttered. Yaxley glanced at his friend. Well, that explains the glamour charms placed on the girl before she was tortured. He shoved one of Avery’s legs over and plopped down. “So you heard about Snape, huh?”

“What about him?” Avery asked still focused on his liquor.

Yaxley gave him a strange look. “You said Quella is a bitch. Aren’t you ticked off that she’s dating Snape now?”

“What!” Avery jumped up shattering the glass in his hand. “That’s the guy she’s been doing while I was in prison. Where the hell are they? I’m going to. . .”

Yaxley grabbed his friend’s shoulders. “Ave, if I was you. I’d leave them alone. Both are highly in favor with the Dark Lord at the moment. If you do anything to either one of them. . . .just let it go okay.”

But Avery never heeded good advice and didn’t start now. He shoved his friend down and marched out of the room searching for the couple. 

________

 

Severus flinched a bit. He carefully removed her arms but kept her hands clasped in his. “And what about you, Quella? How do you feel about me murdering Albus Dumbledore?”

Quella blinked in surprise. “It’s not like I liked the man. I’ve never made any secret of that.”

Severus grimaced. “No, you never did. What was it you called Albus? A control freak and manipulator who made sure that the structure of Ministry is a house of cards that he could send tumbling down at a moment’s notice. However, not liking a man is very different than wishing him dead.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I neither like or dislike the fact Dumbledore is dead. If you recall, I am loyal to only one person.”

“Yourself,” Severus spit out bitterly and turned away from her.

Quella’s eyes softened a bit. “Don’t judge so harshly at me, Severus. I have walked a balance beam the last two years, a balance beam you have been on far longer than I. You chose which side to jump off. You killed the light’s leader. Harry Potter is on the run, and his support is crumbling. Soon the Ministry will be in the Dark Lord’s hands. Thanks to your actions, my side was picked for me.”

Severus’s eyes were black ice and his face as hard as stone. Quella sighed and rolled over. She stretched one leg over his torso and trailed her fingers down his cheek. She leaned in so her breath tickled his “No matter what side, I’m just glad we’re together on this. I’ve grown to care for you and wouldn’t want to fight you.”

“You, Quella, you actually care for someone other than yourself,” Severus mocked, but Quella didn’t answer but rather lightly teased his lips with her tongue. “Tonight is supposed to be a celebration, Severus, let’s celebrate.” She finished the kiss and felt him moan as he deepened it, wrapping his arms around her.

His kisses were desperate as if he was searching for something he knew he could never have or perhaps didn’t deserve. He hungrily dropped to her neck and paused near her collarbone. “I just want the pain to go away,” Severus mumbled into her skin. “I’m so alone.”

“What do you mean, Severus?” Quella sat up. “What pain?”

Severus lifted his head. She brushed back his hair and for the first time ever she saw his eyes, really saw his eyes, vulnerable and fearful, and she knew. She knew the truth. “Oh Merlin,” she whispered. “We aren’t on the same side. You murdered the man and you are still loyal to him. How is that possible?”

 

______________________________

Avery stumbled upon the thick carpet of one of the numerous corridors. Where the hell were they? He felt like he’d been searching for hours, but the house was a damn maze and it wasn’t like he was in prime condition anyways. Fourteen months of prison followed by a night of too much liquor--he definitely wasn’t feeling his best. Suddenly, his stomach rebelled and he heaved firewhiskey and wine all over the carpet. “Disgusting!” a portrait of a woman peered down from him from her position on the wall.

The drunk wiped his mouth with the edge of his robe and stared up menacingly. “Why the fuck do you care?” he growled. “Stop looking at me like that or you’ll regret it.”

She turned her nose up at him. “I’m already regretting it. What Malfoy allowed the likes of you in this house? You are nothing but an inebriated bacchanal.”

He scowled at the portrait and crawled over toward it. Slowly he reached down to his boot and removed a small silver dagger. “Do you know what this is?”

The lady glanced at the sharp instrument, her painted facing paling. “You wouldn’t do that, not to a Malfoy painting,” she whispered. 

He gave her an evil laugh. “The Malfoy name don’t mean shite anymore. This weapon,” he paused and studied the tip. “It ain’t a normal dagger. See the tip there. It’s cursed. One stab and any living being would be dead in about ten seconds. Now you ain’t living, but I wonder what the curse would do the canvas.” Gripping the end of her frame, he hauled himself up until they were nose to nose. Then he slowly brought the knife forward. The woman screamed and ran sideways out of her painting, but he continued with the knife until a deep gash formed from side frame to side frame. Then he continued on his way. He had a mission to complete.

 

_______________________

Quella jumped off the bed. “What the hell is going on, Snape? You can’t be serious. Please tell me I didn’t see what I just did in your mind.” But Severus didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. He just lay there, his face buried in the mattress as if he hoped the entire world would just melt away and take him with it. 

His passive resistance just made Quella more angry. “Why would you be on the losing side, Severus? Why would you create the losing side and still stick with it? It makes no sense. What’s keeping you loyal to that dead idiot?” She reached out and shoved him hard, but he still didn’t answer her, keeping his face hidden. 

“Fine, Snape. You don’t want to talk. Fine by me, but remember that the Dark Lord ordered me to inform him of any indication that you were wavering in your loyalty from him. Well, this is a big indication and don’t try to tell me I imagined it.” She began pacing back and forth. The heels of her boots clicking on the hardwood. Her conversation seemed to vasciliate between yelling at Severus and talking to herself. “What the hell am I supposed to do now? I saw all the signs. I knew you were much closer to Dumbledore than the Dark Lord expected but I ignored all of them. Why? Because I was becoming involved with you. Against my better judgment, I liked you, so I waited, tried to convince myself that I was wrong.” She paused and stopped in front of him. By now, Severus had gained control and was sitting up staring at her indicating nothing. 

Quella pointed her finger at him accusingly. “Then you murdered Dumbledore and I felt vindicated that I had waited, that I hadn’t gone to the Dark Lord prematurely, that I hadn’t gotten a loyal Death Eater killed, but now. . . now, I know exactly what I saw. You messed up. Probably, for the first in your life, your occlumency shields were completely down and now I know the truth.”

She paused her rambling, waiting for his reaction. “You are obviously mistaken, Quella. As you pointed out, there is no logical reason for me to loyal to Dumbledore, for I am the one who murdered him.”

“I am not mistaken,” she shrieked. “I know what I saw!” Her breathing was erratic and her heart raced. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down. “I just don’t understand why? Why are YOU still loyal to the man? Was it Dumbledore? Did he save your life at some point and in a twisted sense you feel guilty like you owe him something even in death? Was it selfishness? Did you really think that Potter could still win or perhaps it was love? Did the Dark Lord kill your woman, so even though you killed Dumbledore, you . . .”

At the moment Severus Snape’s carefully controlled mask vanished to reveal a face of hatred and torment. This brief glance of agony and revulsion was Quella’s only clue before a red light flashed before her eyes. She threw up a shield which held but just barely and she stumbled back as Severus rose from the bed and aimed his wand again.

Quella had heard stories about Severus’s dueling from other Death Eaters. Although he rarely involved himself in such activities, not one of them wanted to cross Severus Snape. For the first time, Quella understood why. His eyes were flaming coals and his lanky hair whipped about his face; his magic responding to his anger. He bombarded her, spell after spell, hex after hex, so quickly that she couldn’t send a spell back, couldn’t focus to create an illusion. All she could do was maintain her shield spell. All too quickly, even that failed her. The last she heard was Severus’s voice roaring in her ears “Sectumsempra!” One scream of pain ripped through her and then blackness over took.

__________________________

Avery paused at a fork in the hallways. RIght or left? All these damn halls looked the same. Suddenly a shrill cry reverberated through the corridor. He snapped his drunken head up and focused. He knew that sound. It was Quella. She was close and she sounded like like she was in agony. “Good,” he thought as he stumbled about. “I’ll search every room if I have to.”

____________________________

Quella expected the pain and it was there. There was no doubt about that, but still it wasn’t agonizing. The second thing she felt was constriction. Her movement not even given millimeters. Slowly, she opened her eyes a fraction. There was Severus, sitting on the bed, staring at her intently. His expression unreadable, but Quella sensed his uncertainty.

She tried to shake the fog from her head but her neck was as bound as the rest of her. She appeared to be magically bound to a chair. Of what she could see of her robes, they appeared to be soaked in blood, now crusting to brown. “Whose blood is that?” she croaked her voice parched and sore.

“Yours,” Severus answered simply. “I healed you afterwards, but you still lost a lot.” He shrugged as if he had accidently given her a paper cut.

Quella’s eyes narrowed. She and Severus were staring at each other intently trying to judge the other’s intentions, their information, their loyalty. It was very obvious to the redhead that she would never best him in a duel. She wasn’t sure exactly how far Severus would take it. Would he kill her? Probably not, since he healed her already. Unless he had only done that in order to interrogate her. Did Severus have it in him to torture her? Her gut told her no, so she tried for placating him. “Severus, why did you bind me? Why did you attack me to begin with?”

“You know too much,” he said simply, “and you can’t be trusted. You’ll go to the Dark Lord with your suspicions.”

Quella snorted, “I think after our conversations, your reactions, we can safely say that they are more than suspicions and no, I won’t go to the Dark Lord.”

This time it was Severus’s turn to snort. 

“Did I got to him when I first suspected your loyalties? How many conversations have we had that would have condemned you if they reached the Dark Lord’s ears? Putting it all together, I had more than enough evidence, but I didn’t tell him then and I won’t him now.”

“Why should I believe you? Not after the rant I just heard coming from your mouth,” he sneered.

“I was shocked,” Quella said calmly. She tried to wiggle a bit but the magical ropes were too tight. “That was one conversation when I wasn’t in my right mind. Don’t trust it. Trust our past, the months we’ve had together.”

Severus eyes softened a bit as he watched her. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t trust you. Those months. Were they the real you? Because you the entire time you were in control, you never lost focus. Tonight. . . tonight was the first time I’ve ever seen you lose your discipline and I wonder if, for the first time, I saw the real you.” 

“Severus,” Quella pleaded, “what can I do to convince you. I would never betray you. You mean too much to me.” She gave him a small pout, her eyes wide and almost innocent as if she never meant for anything to happen. 

The master duelist studied her for a moment. “Perhaps, if I obliviated the memories from you.”

“Over my dead body,” Quella snarled abruptly. “No one messes with my mind. I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

Severus nodded as if confirming something to himself. “Of that, my dear, Quella. I have no doubt and if I did try, I have no doubt one of two things would happen.” He marched around her out of her line of sight. 

“I would fight you,” Quella declared again “and it would probably permanently damage my mind.”

“Or,” Severus voice appeared behind her, his breath tickling her ear making her jump although she still couldn’t move. “You would store the memories away somewhere I couldn’t find and it would be all for naught. You are a very accomplished occlumist, Quella.”

“Thank you,” she replied trying to twist her neck. It moved every slow slightly as if the “ropes” had a bit of give. “Severus, I don’t want to fight. I want to trust you. I don’t care which side you are on. Really!”

“You declared your allegiance to the Dark Lord not twenty minutes ago and you expect me to think you’ve changed your mind,” he snarled from behind her.

“I expect you to believe what I have always said,” Quella replied resolutely still looking straight ahead. “My allegiance is to one person: me, but you are important to me too. I owe you some allegiance, too.”

“Some allegiance?” Severus moved to the front and stared at her in disbelief. “How much is that worth?”

“I have more allegiance to you than the Dark Lord,” she argued.

“The tattoo on your arms says differently,” he whipped back at her.

“The kisses from my lips overrule even that,” Quella shot back. Then she dropped her voice. “Severus, please come here. I don’t want to argue with you.” She tried to wiggle in her bindings and found her wrists could twist back and forth every so slightly.

“No,” Severus replied resolutely. 

“Fine,” Quella said. “Then I’ll just have to come to you.”  
She stood up gracefully from the chair and slowly inched closer to him. Her green eyes never left his face. “That’s not possible,” he convinced himself. “I bound you extremely tightly. 

“Yes, you did,” Quella agreed. “But remember, I don’t have to be unbound to be at your side.”

“An illusion,” he replied chatizing himself for not realizing the obvious. “You are still bound in the chair. It’s just an illusion of you walking up to me.”

The illusion shrugged. “Does it really matter, Severus? No matter where I am, you can still feel me.” She dragged one perfectly manicured finger across this cheek. “I can still be near you. I can still be here for you.”

“You are an illusion,” he repeated to himself. “That’s all you are.”

“Perhaps, Does this feel like an illusion?” She grabbed the nap of his neck and pulled him into a hot, sultry kiss, using her tongue like a weapon to subdue him. 

Finally, he pulled away, “No, it feels very real,” he admitted, “but I don’t like kissing mirages.”

“Then don’t,” she explained pulling him a few steps closer to the chair. Slowly she sank into the chair so the illusion matched her body. “My hands are still bound, so they are illusion but my lips are very real” and she pulled him down for an even deeper kiss. 

_____________

Avery stumbled down another passage. A light came underneath one of the doors. He waved his wand so he could hear the voices inside better. He was reward with the quiet murmurings of two lovers. “At last” he thought to himself as he silently reached for the door knob   
_____________

Severus broke off the kiss, breathing heavily his forehead pressed against hers. “I want to trust you. I really do, Quella, but there is too much at stake.”

“Sssshhh” Quella put an imaginary finger to his lips. “Don’t tell me everything. I wouldn’t expect you to. I trust you. Only trust me with what I already know. Can you do that Severus. Can you trust me as I trust you?”

Severus looked deep into the green eyes, not vibrant green like Lily’s but a softer green. She was so different than Lily but in her own way, Quella had stood by him. She accepted all parts of him, his strange, inexplicable loyalties, the good and the dark, something Lily could never do. “I want to trust you,” he murmured softly into her ear.

A slow smile formed on Quella’s face and her eyes danced with excitement. “And I want you to trust me,” she said. Severus pulled back slightly, unsure of what to do. His mind and heart running in opposite directions.

Even though, he hadn’t moved, Quella was somehow there, an illusion of lips whispering against his mouth. “It’s okay, Severus. It’s okay. I understand why you have trouble with trust. We’ll take it a step at a time, one kiss at a time.

He knew it was illusion but, oh, the kiss was sweet and undemanding as if she had little care in the world but to slowly melt the anger and rage from his body

_________________________

Avery opened yet another door and froze. There she was, sitting in a chair, Her lips tickling Snape’s mouth.

__________________________

Severus knew he should stop. He knew the kiss was false, as false as their relationship, as false as his ability to trust anyone, yet he still felt himself reaching toward her, hoping that she was true, that he really could confide in her. He lightly touched her arm.. Her lips stilled and he took advantage of it, slipping his hands up her shoulders to gently massage her neck.

Her neck was sticky. 

His fingers were quickly covered in oozing blood.

The handle of a silver knife protruded from the side of her neck. Avery’s face full of glee behind it. “That’s what you’re gettin’ for cheatin’ on me, bitch.”

Severus stared in horror, quickly realizing that the illusion was gone as the woman gasped for breath. He grabbed Quella’s face, watching the color drain from her. Her eyes wide with shock. “Quella, stay with me,” he begged even though, deep down, he knew it was too late.

“Severus. . . “ she gasped as she tried to find air and blood poured from her neck. “Severus. . . . I . . . . you.” 

Her head dropped to her chin and Quella was no more. 

Silence

Horror.

Impossible.

His world caved in. She was dead.

Again.

Those green eyes. That red hair.

Gone.

And this time, she had loved him back.

“Quella?” he croaked unable to understand or maybe it was to accept the truth.

The world was far off in the distance, a long dark tunnel, a pinpoint of light. He had no desire to find the end. He just wanted to collapse into nothingness.

Then he heard a noise, a cackling laugh of conquest. He pulled himself from the depths of despair. There behind her body was Avery, grinning in triumph. Fury course through Severus, his blood boiling, his magic whipping around him.

“You,” he snarled at Avery. “She was everything. You are nothing and you will pay for this with every fiber of your being for when I’m done with you, you will wish the Dark Lord was torturing you for I will show you less mercy than he.”

Avery immediately sobered up. “You might want to rethink that illustration of your supposed angel, there, Snape. I think she had you under some sort of spell, some illusion.” He pointed to the lap of the corpse.

Severus looked down. Understanding dawning on him. All her words of trust. All her kisses in the night. Did they mean nothing? One scene told him the truth and it was his own wand.

For there was his wand, not in his robes, as he had thought but rather in Quella’s dead hand. Somehow, during her illusion, during the special kiss, his magical ropes had loosened. Quella had gotten her hand freed and reached into his robe. His wand was in her hand and it was pointed straight at his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed The Other Spy. Please check out my other SS/OC called Even the Best Laid Plans or drop me a comment about this one. 
> 
> The rest of my stories can be found on https://hpfanfictalk.com/archive/


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